635 = = 

Z9 

C895 ENEDY'S NEW SERIES OF PLAYS. 

Copy 1 



«8 



DUEL AT DAWN. 

70 5" 

A ONE ACT TRAGEDY. 




A MILLIONAIRE'S TRIALS. 



A COMEDY-DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS. 



BY ELEANOR R. COX. 



TOGETHER WITH 

A DESCRIPTION OF THE COSTUMES— CAST OF THE CHARACTERS — EN 
TRANCES AND EXITS — RELATIVE POSITIONS OF THE PERFORM- 
ERS ON THE STAGE, AND THE WHOLE OF THE STAGE 
BUSINESS. 




New York : 

P. J. KENEDY, 

EXCELSIOR PUBLISHING HOUSE, 

5 Barclay Street 

1894. 




A DUEL AT DAWN. 



A ONE ACT TRAGEDY. 



AND 



A MILLIONAIRE'S TRIALS. 



A COMEDY-DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS. 



BY ELEANOR R. COX. 






TOGETHER WITH 



A DESCRIPTION OF THE COSTUMES— CAST OF THE CHARACTERS— EN- 
TRANCES AND EXITS— RELATIVE POSITIONS OF THE PERFORM- 
ERS ON THE STAGE, AND THE WHOLE OF THE STAGE 
BUSINESS. 




New York : 

P. J. KENEDY, 

EXCELSIOR PUBLISHING HOUSE, 

5 Barclay Street. 

1894. 



fc^ 






£<s 






Copyright. 

1894. 

Eleanor R. Cox, 



TMP92-008952 



A DUEL AT DAWN. 
SCENE — Veranda and Lawn of a French Country house. 



A MILLIONAIRE'S TRIALS. 
ACT I.— Room in Jones' house. Time, morning. 

ACT 2.— Same room as Act i. Time, first Scene, morning 
one month after close of Act I. Time, Scene 2, evening 
of same day. 

ACT 3.— ist Scene— Room in Mrs. Ranger's house. Time, 

afternoon two weeks from close of Act 2. 
Scene 2. — Jersey. Time, morning. 
Scene 3. — Same room as Scene 1 Act 3. Time, evening 

one week from Woman Suffrage Convention. 

ACT 4. — Scene 1. — Same room as first and second Acts. Time, 

morning, one week from close of last Act. 
Scene 2. — Same room. Time, evening, few days after 

close of ist Scene. 
Scene 3. — Police Court held temporarily in room of a 

hotel. Time, afternoon of day after that of Scene 2. 
Scene 4. — Same room as ist three scenes. Evening of 

day represented in Scene 3. 



STAGE DIRECTIONS. 

R. means Right of stage, facing the Audience ; L. Left ; C. Centre ; R. C. Right 
of Centre ; L. C. Left of Centre. D. P. Door in Flat, or Scene running across the 
back of the stage ; C. D. F. Centre Door in the Flat ; R. D. F. Right Door in the 
Flat ; L. D. F. Left Door in the Flat ; R. D. Right Door ; L. D. Left Door ; 1 E. 
First entrance ; 2 E. Second entrance ; U. E. Upper entrance ; 1, 2 or 3 G. First, 
Second or Third Grooves. 

R. R. C. L. C. L. 

EWThe reader is supposed to be upon the stage, facing the audience. 



A DUEL AT DAWN. 

.- ONE ACT TRAGEDY. 



CHARACTERS. 

Victor De Mendon 

Count De Vandemar 

Surgeon 

Madam De Maurevais— Victor's sister. 

Marjorie Vane— An American heiress. 

Scene — Veranda of a French country house. Victor in 
the uniform of the Chasseurs-a-cheval stands alone. 

Victor. So ! the dream is dreamed out. The farce is quite 
played to a finish. Only, with her it was always a farce, — 1 can 
see that plainly enough now. Fool, fool that 1 was, to think 
that in that light soul there could dwell the truth and 
tenderness and constancy that were ever the possession of the 
women of our race. To think that I, a soldier of France, the 
last of my name, should be publicly insulted by my be- 
trothed wife before a crowded ballroom ! Oh little glove ! 
first gift that I ever received from her hand, I fling you 
away. Would God I could so easily fling away the memory 
of the giver. 

Enter Count De Vandemar, with sword. 

COUNT. Here's your weapon ! See, what a delightful blade 
it is. The blood leaps through the veins at the very touch. 

VlC. {Jeeling blade]. Fine ! beautiful ! A man couldn't 
desire a pleasanter pass to Eternity. Strange isn't it though 
that Lord Rivers should have chosen swords. I thought 
Englishmen always preferred pistols. By the way, De Van- 
demar, how many duels have you fought ? 

Count. Let me see. First there was that little affair with 
Dupressy, a sous-lieutenant of Cuiraissiers, very famous 
just about that time as the first swordsman in Paris. 'Twas 
a small affair of the heart. It proved one for him in both 
ways, for 1 took him by a neat sabre movement under the 
left breast, that I had learned from the Turks in Algiers. 
You see it's this way. You take your weapon thus — You 
swing it round — So. Down comes your man — Thus ! 

Vic. Pardon me Count, if I interrupt you for a moment. 



4 A DUEL AT DAWN. 

But time presses. What I wished to know was not indeed so 
much the number of your duels as the feelings with which 
you entered into them. Probably to you the question will 
seem the most consummate folly. — To myself it savors of 
cowardice. — But did it never occur to you lhat when you took 
a man's life in one of these affairs, you were guilty of murder 
before God and man ? 

Count. Murder. You talk like a clergyman or a woman ! 
You who are a Frenchman, a soldier, a son of soldiers, — 'Twas 
a gentleman, a King of France, that once defeated and con- 
quered, a monarch only in name, could still exclaim : "All is 
lost but honor." To us gentlemen of modern France all that 
is left is our honor. They can banish our princes and buy 
our senates. The Communists can burn our churches, the 
Rothschilds can purchase our palaces. But they cannot burn, 
and they cannot buy the honor of a gentleman ol France ! 

Vic. Thank you De Vandemar. You speak as my father 
would have spoken. Even if I would withdraw I could not. 
It was I struck the first blow. God knows my life is not 
such a pleasant thing that I need feel sorry to part with it. 

Count. Bah ! man if I were to talk like that there would be 
some reason in it. But for you, not yet twenty-six, head of 
one of the first houses in France, to talk of losing your life 
merely because a golden-haired American heiress has jilted 
you — why it's preposterous ! Only be sure to use that neat 
little sabre movement beneath the left breast that I have just 
shown you. And presto ! down goes your man, the English 
embassy at Paris loses one of its chief ornaments, you go 
over to London to spend the remainder of the season, you 
are petted by Duchesses, you pose as a lion, you marry a 
blonde young English angel — Ah, the thought of it all makes 
my mouth water. 

Vic. You treat it as a jest, De Vandemar, but something 
there is here that tells me that my first duel will be also 
my last. Well, let it go. The wine of life was very sweet, but 
I have begun to taste its dregs. A thousand years would not 
make me forget the humiliation of last night 

Count. I have only lived fifty years — and I have forgotten 
— ah, if you only knew how much I have forgotten ! 

Vic. Count, you must pardon me if I do not fall in with 
your mood. Only yesterday I would have laughed at the 
thought, that I, Victor De Mendon, should of all men in the 
world, stand here in the gray of the morning, talking of death 
and its chances — But you have heard the legend that runs in 
our family, that once every fourth generation, the head of the 
house comes to its death by violent means. 

Count. Pshaw, my dear fellow. These legends that 
gather around the history of every old family are like the 
ivies that entwine the walls of their castles — perfectly natural 
growths but not at all dangerous ones. 

Vic. Well, well, it does not matter. The sooner this busi- 



A DUEL AT DAWN. 5 

ness is over the better. At what time will Lord Rivers and 
his second be here ? 

Count. At four o'clock [looking at watch] ;it is now three, 
forty-five. You can manage the affair nicely in that little hol- 
low down there by the wood. 

Vic. I hear a footstep. It is my sister's! For God's 
sake Count, hide the sword or go yourself : go ! go ! 

Count. Too late. Only do you play the hypocrite for the 
next ten minutes and she will never suspect our purpose. 

Enter Madam De Maurevais. 

Madam De Maurevais. Victor, — Count De Vandemar — 

a drawn sword, — What is the meaning of this ? 

Count. Madam, you alarm yourself unnecessarily, I as- 
sure you. I was merely showing your brother a new sabre 
movement that 

Mad. Truly Count you have chosen a most wonderful time 
for the lesson. And you seem to have found a remarkably 
willing pupil. 

Vic. Ah Clemence you would not wonder to find me here, 
if you only knew what a horrible, and stifling place a ball- 
room may become under certain circumstances. 

Count. When a certain fair American for instance takes it 
into her pretty little head to dance with another man through 
the livelong night. Never mind my boy, you'll smile at all 
this when you're thirty or forty years older and have danced 
to the music of bullets and smelt real powder. It's a brutal 
fact but for myself I must confess that the best part of a ball 
is the supper. 

Mad. Ah ! Count you're fifty and I forgive you. 
I could forgive you much more when I found my first fears 
were groundless, and that your drawn sword didn't mean 
a duel after all. 

Count. Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! a duel ! very good indeed. Oh it 
takes more than a trifle to provoke men to that in these 
days. Now when 1 was a young man 

Mad. By the way, Count, I should very much like to see a 
duel. Most things bore me in ten minutes, but I really think 
I could stand a quarter of an hour at that. 

Count. Madam, if you're sincere I'll insult the first man I 
meet, merely for the pleasure of pleasing you. And which 
way do you prefer your duel served, madam? 

Mad. Oh by moonlight of course. Silvered grass, silver 
sky, and the crossing of sword-points. What a charming spot 
this would be for such an encounter. Oh I can fancy the en- 
chantment of it ! 

Vic. Ah Count, you see how our soldier's blood leaps out 
even yet. And of what sometimes follows the crossing of 
sword-points, my gentle Clemence -did you think of that ? 

Mad. Of what follows? You mean death. Ah Death, Ah 



6 A DUEL AT DAWN. 

Death, Ah Death! But it is a long way off. We'll say a hundred 
years. Meantime our chief concern in life must be to gather 
its roses. 

Count. Madam, I kiss your hand for that speech. But it 
is now almost four o'clock, and I must say good-morning. 
You will accompany me a little part of the way, will you not, 
De Mendon ? 

Vic. With pleasure. Clemence, my dear sister, you will 
catch cold here in the damp morning air. You are shivering 
even now. 

Mad. Shivering! Oh Victor, it is not the cold which 
causes me to shiver, but something which I see in your face 
— something ; a shadow, a — my God, I cannot define it. But 
you must not go away. 

Count. Time's up De Mendon. You know I cannot delay 
a moment after four. 

Vic. Clemence my sister you know I have never refused 
you anything. Do not give me that pain now. This matter 
of parting is only for a few moments at best. But just to 
keep up the jest that the parting is a real one, suppose we 
shake hands. There. Au revoi'r / now, dear one. 

Mad. No Victor, you shall not go thus 

Vic. But Clemence 

Mad. Then you refuse me ? 

Vic. Hear it then if you will. Down there in the meadow 
by the wood Lord Rivers and his second await our coming. 
Already they are calling us cowards for our delay. Of course 
you have seen for yourself how for the past fortnight, 
Rivers has been the special object of Marjone's favor. One 
hour ago I met him alone on the terrace. 1 struck him in 
the face. Of course you know what that means. 

Mad. And you hesitated to tell me this, lest I should 
hinder your purpose. Oh, Victor my brother, heart of my 
heart as you are, do you think I would counsel you to the 
course of a coward ? Go, go, at once. I will stay here and 
pray for your safe return. [Exit Victor and COUNT De- 
Vandemar. 

Enter Marjorie Vane. 

Marjorie. Oh, Madam de Maurevais, I'm so glad to have 
found you. I couldn't go away you know without saying 
good-bye, and telling you what a dear delightful time I've 
had. And the beautiful things that have been said to me 

Mad. Really Mademoiselle. 

Mar. Oh yes ! delightful. You could never fancy the pretty 
compliment the Russian Ambassador paid me. You know 
how Prince IvanofF talks when he wishes to make an impres- 
sion — holds his old head on one side like a bird — so. "Pardon 
me Mademoiselle," he said "but I believe it is very cold in your 
country just now." Of course I told him that I really didn't 
know. The weather in the United States didn't trouble me. 



A DUEL AT DAWN. 7 

"Well," he said "if it isn't cold over there, it ought to be, while 
it is deprived of the sunshine of your presence." Now that's 
what / call a nice speech. 

Mad. [aside]. And this is the girl, for whom my brother 
at this moment, may be losing his life. [ ToMarjorie.] And you 
enjoyed the dancing too did you not ? 

Mar. Oh, Madam, what a question ! Enjoyment's a slight 
name for it. Think of the pleasure it must be to go with a 
great, stupid elephantine Englishman like Lord Rivers 
through cotillion and waltz and quadrille for a whole long 
night. 

Mad. Ah, indeed — butyou did not find him stupid? 

Mar. Oh, I don't know. I think everything was stupid. And 
1 could see your brother frowning at us with his great angry 
eyes, wherever I turned. And I lost the big diamond that 
fastened my necklace. But papa said he'd buy me one twice 
as big and twice as beautiful. And oh Madam, have you seen 
Victor? 

Mad. Mademoiselle — Marjorie, I have listened patiently to 
you thus far. But you — surely you could not, would not, dare 
not face the man to whom you were betrothed, after your 
shameless flirting with another man throughout the entire 
night? 

Mar. Ha! ha! ha! So Victor has been confiding his 
trouble to you then Madam. And we shan't flirt even a little 
bit, shall we ? And we'll be a nice, meek, modest little French- 
woman just able to say "prunes and presms." Oh I'll make 
him dance a pretty dance for this ! 

Mad. Indeed! you did not know then, that scarcely a stone's 
throw from where we stand, these two men, neither of whom 
you love, both of whom you have fooled, are fighting a duel 
to the death on your account. 

Mar. [aside]. I must keep a brave face to the end. [To Mad- 
am.] On my account ? A duel for me ? Oh the charming fel- 
lows ! The papers will have it in the morning, and the blonde 
belle Americaine will be the sensation of the hour. 

Mad. Oh girl !oh woman ! oh heart of stone, leave me. Nay, 
do not touch me. To think that for such as you, a man may 
lose his life and risk his soul. 'Tis monstrous, 'Tis unbelievable! 

Mar. Oh Madam Maurevais, forgive me. I never, never 
dreamt it would end so. Driven to death and by me ! By 
me who would not wish that his little finger should ache. 
Nay Madam, look at me, say you forgive me. See here on 
my knees at your feet I implore it. 

Mad. You were laughing a moment ago; you weep now. 
I think the laughter just as sincere as the weeping. Pray 
get up. 

Mar. [leans back sobbing]. Oh ! Victor, Victor, Victor. 

£«/^CountDe Vandemar and Surgeon bearing Victor 
■wounded [at back of stage]. 

Count. There, easy now. Does he yet breathe ? 



8 A DUEL AT DAWN. 

Sur. A little. They were a strong race, these DeMendons ! 
COUNT. One of the strongest and best in France. I can- 
not understand though, how he could have failed to do for 
the Englishman. He was the first swordsman in his branch 
of the service. Ha — the legend, the legend — that explains it. 

Sur. [kneeling]. Well Count, no explanation will call him 
back. And this was for a woman. [Victor speaks incoher- 
ently. 

Count. He mutters something still. Poor soul, pooi 
heart, how hard it is for you to consign yourself to sleep. 

Mad. I hear voices. That is Count DeVandemar's. Oh ! 
Victor my brother, my brother, and it is thus you come back ! 

Mar. Oh ray heart, my life, and this was for me! [Kneels by 
De Mendon.] Victor, look at me, speak to me. Foigive me ! 

Mad, Go girl, your place is not here. His murder is on 
your head. Let him go in peace. Leave my dead to me. It 
is all I have left now. 

Mar. Nay, he is not dead. And my place is here — here, by 
your heart Victor. I am his betrothed wife, Madam De 
Maurevais. 

Vic. [mutters]. Yes mother — we'll go presently — But 
Clemence, Clemence — I must wait for her. 

Mad. He is thinking of our mother — our beautiful mother 
who died when he was a child. And even in his delirium he 
remembers me. Would God I could go with you, my brother, 
wherever you go. 

Count. Strange is it not, Doctor, when we come to face 
this long, long sleep in the arms of the Earth — mother, how 
our hearts go back to the memory of the first woman who 
clasped us to her breast. 

Sur. His spirit will pass in this delirium. Nay, do not 
disturb him. It is better so. 

Mar. But Victor — oh Victor, you must not go so! one word 
of pardon — recognition [Bell rings. 

Vic. [mutters]. Listen my mother. There is the Angelus. 
But— I have forgotten the prayer — and I cannot see your 
face — There is another face between us always, mother — a girl's 
face scornful as it is beautiful. Bah ! it is gone now and it 
is night, night ! 

Mar. Oh Clemence, — Madam De Maurevais, speak to him, 
you. Look Victor, my face is not scornful. It will never 
mock you again. Ah love, if you only knew 

Vic Marjorie, is it you ? Nay, little girl, do not weep. Only 
/ was a fool to doubt your constancy. And Clemence — 
Clemence stoop lower. 

Mad. Oh ray brother, my life : 

Vic. There, take Marjone's hand. Farewell Count. You 
see your sabre movement was a failure — God pardon me — 
Marjorie your other hand. Dear heart till we meet again- 
Farewell. 

Mar. Dear Love, dear life till we meet again ! 

END. 



A MILLIONAIRE'S TRIALS. 

A COMEDY-DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS. 



LIST OF CHARACTERS. 

James Ferdinand [ones— The Millionaire. 

Dick De Fores'!'— A Wall St. Broker. 

Mr. De Forest — Dick's Father. 

Lord Harrisford— A visiting Englisn nobleman. 

Officer Mc Ginnis — Of the 19th Precinct. 

Charles— English servant of Mr. Jones. 

Judge Finnegan — Police Justice. 

Clerk of the Court. 

Josiah Green — A Jersey farmer. 

Man with the Dog. 

Man with a Patent Crank-Killer. 

Miss Georgiana Forrester ) 

Miss Mildred Forrester > Wards of Mr. Jones. 

Miss Edith Forrester \ 

Mrs. Ranger — President of Murray Hill Woman Suffrage 

League, Sect'y of Women's Cold Croton Temperance 

Assoc, and Member of Sorosis. 
Miss Maude Ranger— Her neice. 
Mrs. Merryweather — A female philanthropist interested 

in the preservation of Cats. 
A Salvation Army Girl. 

Members of Woman Suffrage Convention. 



ACT I. 

Scene i. — A Bachelor's apartment. Mr. Jones seated at 
table, holding lawyer's letter in hand and still very much 
dazed at its unexpected announcement of his good fortune. 
Time — Morning. 

Mr. Jones. Yes ! here's a copy of the will, here's the law- 
yer's letter, yet hang me ! if I can believe a word of it yet. 
That an old uncle of mine, of whose existence I scarcely 
knew, should die, leaving me, James Ferdinand Jones, heir 
to five million dollars — just think of it, aclear, cool five million! 
Seems too good for belief. But there's one thing about it I 
don't half like and that's this business of the guardianship. 
What in the name of all that's wonderful, could induce the 



IO A MILLIONAIRE S TRIALS. 

old boy to appoint me guardian to those three girls? Let's 
see their names again. — Georgiana, Edith, Mildred. Well, I 
guess Georgiana's about twenty-five ; up to that time all the 
Georgianas are Georgies. Edith's around twenty-two, and 
Mildred's anywhere from sweet sixteen to twenty. Well, 
[jumping up and surveying himself in looking-glass.] I don't 
think I look very particularly like the matron of an orphan 
asylum. I wonder what the fellows will say. Already I hear 
myself referred to, as the guardian of youth and innocence in 
the smoking-room of every. club in New York. But never 
mind ! I'm a millionaire, sure enough, and nothing can alter 
that fact. Now the next thing is to tell Charles. Charles ! 

[Calls. 

Chawles. You called me Sir ? 

Mr. J. Charles, you haven't heard the glorious good fortune 
that has come to me. No, nor you wouldn't guess it, if you 
were trying for a thousand years. I'm a millionaire, Charles ! 
Here's the will that has made me the owner of fivi millions. 
No more shifts, no more saving. I'm the happiest man in 
New York ! 

Chaw. H'im hextremely gratified, Sir. 

Mr. J. Hang it man, you might show a little emotion. "Ex- 
tremely gratified" seems a mild way for a faithful fellow 
like you, to express his satisfaction. 

Chaw. H'emotion, Sir ! H'im above h'emotion. In the 
late Dook of Doverfield's establishment in which h'is had the 
'onor to be brought h'up and cddicated, it was an inwariable 
rule — Never show H'emotion. "Chawles, my boy," the late 
Dook has frequent, said to me, "Chawles, my boy, you may 
murder the Queen's English, break every one of the Ten Com- 
mandments, kick a hole through the British Constitution, 
but never — no, never under any circumstance, must you show 
h'emotion." Why, Sir. did you know that it was h'emotion 
caused the late Dook's separation from his lovely young 
Duchess? The Duchess was an American, Sir, and very h'im- 
pulsive. Wot do you think she did, Sir ? Why, one day after 
she had been away three months on the Continent for her 
'ealth, she came 'ome to find the late Dook, waiting for her 
at the railway-station. And you wouldn't believe it, Sir, but 
she run straight h'up to him and kissed him. Sir — kissed him 
on the mouth — after that of course there could be nothing 
but a separation. 

Mr. J. Confound the Duke and his Duchess and your long- 
winded eloquence. Tell me, what you'd do, Charles, if you 
were in my position. 

Chaw. What would I do, Sir ? Why, first and foremost 
Sir, I would go home to h'old H'england. 

Mr. J. And why England, Charles, more than Paris or Ben- 
gal or Salt Lake City or Brooklyn. / thought New York 
suited us both down to the ground. 

Chaw. Ah, Sir, you have never been in London ! Why, 



A MILLIONAIRES TRIALS. 



when I was 'orae in merry H'england, they called me 'and- 
some Chawles with the auburn hair. But in this 'ere bloom- 
ing country, its "Get out, you red-headed Britisher," every 
second word. H'im above flattery, Sir. but I do say that in 
H'england, you'd be a himmense success — Himmense ! 



Enter Mrs. Merry weather. 

Mr. J. [aside]. Great Scott .' what's this ! 

Mrs. Merryweather. 1 think I stand in the presence of 
Mr. Jones, the well-known philanthropist. 

Mr. J. [aside]. I never had five dollars to spare in my life. 

Mrs. Merry. Mr. Jones I have been more than delighted 
to read in the morning papers of your good fortune. I'm 
Mrs. Martha Merryweather, of whom, as President of the So- 
ciety for the Preservation of Insane and Idiotic Cats, you have 
no doubt, often heard. 

Mr. J. Madam, I'm delighted to meet a friend of the friend- 
less cat. I once knew a cat named William, — but that's an- 
other story. 'Pon my honor, Madam, I'll be greatly delighted 
to lend my aid in any way, to the preservation of the friendless 
feline. 

Mrs. Merry. Ah, Sir, if all the millionaires were only like 
you. Then you'll give your cheque towards the erection of 
the Home on the banks of the Hudson, in which our Society 
is so much interested. It's going to be a simple granite struct- 
ure with dormitories respectively for the Aged, the Insane, 
the Idiotic and Paralyzed pussy-cats. 

Mr. J. [signs check]. Delighted to help you, Madam. More 
than delighted. No thanks, Mrs. Merryweather, Charles, 
see this lady to the door. [Exit Mrs. M. and Charles— Bell 
rings. 

Mr. J. Well, I'm in for it sure enough. It seems every 
blessed soul in New York knew my good fortune before I 
knew it myself. But what in thunder have we here ? 

Enter shabby man with dog, followed by Charles. 

Mr. J. Charles, what has got into your head this morning ? 
Do you think, because I'm a millionaire, I'm going to hold 
a reception of all the queer characters in the city ? 

Chaw. I know it's h'emtremely annoying Sir, but its h'iin- 
possible to hold 'em back, — quite h'impossible, I do assure 
you, Sir, 

Mr. J. Well never mind. [Toman.] Well, my good fellow, 
what do you want ? 

Man. Want nawthin. Will you buy a dorg? 

Mr. J. Will I buy a dorg? Of course I will. Dozens of 
'em! And I'll buy a yacht and a racing-stable, and a seat in 
the Senate and an Ambassadorship. Oh, yes, you can leave 



12 A MILLIONAIRE'S TRIALS. 

the dog. Call around for the money to-morrow. [Bell rings 
again.] 

Mr. J. Charles, see this gentleman to the door, and fetch 
some more of 'em up — Oh, I'm beginning to realize what it is 
to be a public character. 

Enter Mrs. Minerva Ranger and her niece Miss Maude 

Ranger. 

Mrs. Ranger. Mr. Jones I presume? In calling thus early 
upon you, Mr. Jones, I should like to express the joy of the 
public generally, over the reward of your many merits that 
has lately come to you. 

Mr. J. [aside], I'm hanged if they won't make me out a regu- 
lar Christian Saint and Martyr before they get through 
with me. 

Mrs. R. And dear Mr. Jones, having said this much, let me 
introduce myself as Mrs. Minerva Ranger, member of Sorosis, 
Secretary of the Women's Cold Croton Temperance Ass. 
and President of the Murray Hill Women Suffrage League. 
This is my niece, Miss Maude Ranger. Now Mr. Jones, we 
want you to do us a very great favor — we want you to lend the 
influence of your presence to, and make the opening address 
at the next Convention of the Murray Hill Women's League, 
don't we Maude dear ? 

Maude. Oh, yes, Mr. Jones, you'll come, won't you now. 
[Going over to the dog anil patting him.} Poor old fellow ! poor 
doggie ! 

Mr. J. [aside]. I can't refuse a pretty girl like that, anything. 
But great Caesar's ghost! to think of James Ferdinand 
Jones, presiding at a Women Suffrage meeting. [ To Mrs. 
Ranger.] Madam, it will give me great pleasure to make 
the opening speech at your convention. 

Mrs. R. Nobly-spoken, Sir. our oppressed sex may well 
feel proud of its new champion. Come, Maude. 

Maude [still fondling dog]. Yes auntie. Good-bye, dog- 
gie. Good-bye, Mr. Jones. 

Mr. J. Good-bye Miss Ranger. If your aunt permits you, 
you can have the dog. [Aside.] I wish she'd have me ! 

Maude. Oh, Mr. Jones, how kind you are. Wait a moment 
auntie. Come on doggie. Fido ! Prince! Gypsy! What's 
your name, Sir ? 

Mrs. R. Oh whistle for him Maude, and get through with 
it. 

Maude. Oh ! auntie. Whistle for him. 

Mrs. R. And why not ? For what purpose, do you think, 
did I send you to Miss Birch's Academy for the Formation of 
Stronge-minded Young Women; or for what purpose, do I 
associate you in our present noble work, if it isn't to be able 
to bring a dog by whistling, that won't come for coaxing? 
Whistle! I say. [Maude puts her finger to her lips, breaks 



A MILLIONAIRE S TRIALS. 13 

down, laughs, makes a second attempt, looks at Mr. Jones, and 
bursas into tears. 

Mr. J. [aside]. Confound the old dragon. [To Maude.] 
Never mind Maude— Miss Ranger, I mean. I'll help you. 
[Goes over to dog and secures him with string which he places in 
Maude's hand. 

Both Ladies. You're awfully good, Mr. Jones. Good-bye, 
good-bye. [Exit Mrs. R. and Maude. Bell rings for \th time 
since Mrs. Ranger's entrance. Charles enters. 

Mr. J. How many are there now Charles ? 

Chaw. Oh there's a young woman of the Salvation 
H'army Sir, and ten reporters of the morning newspapers, 
and a man with a patent Crank-killer, and a 

Mr. J. For heaven's sake, Charles, say no more, I'll not 
see another soul to-day. I feel that I'm growing bald 
already. And Georgiana and Edith and Mildred —all that's 
before' me yet. Remember Charles not another visitor 
to-day. If De Forest should call, tell him I'll see him at the 
Club. 

Chaw. H'all right Sir. [Exit in opposite directions, Jones 
and Charles. End of Scene I. Act. i. 

Scene 2. — Act i. — Same room as Scene I. Time, Morning. 
Georgiana must appear as a lady of doubtful age. Mildred 
and Edith are young girls. [ Voices without. 

Enter Georgiana, Mildred and Edith. 

Chaw, [opening door]. But 'e's out hi say. 

Ladies [in chorus]. We'll wait. 

Chaw. Such h'impertinence is extremely annoying — h'em- 
tremely annoying I'm sure. [Exit Charles. Girls takeoff 
hats, etc. 

Georg. Too bad Mr. Jones should be out. What a delight- 
ful surprise it will be for the dear old man to find us here on 
his return ! 

MILDRED [picking up pr.ckage from table]. Why what a 
funny old gentleman our guardian must be — he smokes cigar- 
ettes ! 

Edith. And goes to the races. Here's his betting-book. 

[Shows book. 

Mil. [s^oing to sofa\. And here's his boxing-gloves. Well 
it does seem odd that a nice old New York gentleman should 
have these things lying around. And here's the Sporting 
Times ! 

Georg. Do talk with some reason, girls. You know per- 
fectly well, that nice old gentlemen in New York or any 
other place, don't smoke cigarettes or go to the races, or 
read sporting papers. Mightn't you suppose Mr. Jones had a 
son ? [At this moment, Jones appears in doorway, at back of stage, 
all ready for walk. 

Mr. J. [appears petrified]. Confound that stupid fellow, 
Charles ! Didn't I tell him 



14 A MILLIONAIRES TRIALS. 

Georg. Ah, excuse this unwarrantable intrusion, Sir, 
but I'm sure you'rethe young man of whom we have just been 
speaking. We're the Misses Forrester, and you no doubt are 
the son of our venerable guardian, Mr. James Ferdinand 
Jones. 

Mr. J. / never had a son — I mean I never had a father 
— I mean — oh, confound it all. — ftn your guardian myself. 

Ladies [in chorus]. You ! 

Mr. J. {coming forward]. Well, if I'm younger than I should 
be, it's my uncle's fault and not mine. Anyhow I'm glad 
you came to New York, and shall try to make your visit as 
pleasant as possible. [Bell rings. Voices in hall. 

Mr. J. {jumps round]. Good Lord, if that's not De Forest. 
I must keep him out or in half-an-hour all the boys will have 
it. 

Enter Dick De Forest. [Shakes hands -with Jones.] 

Dick. Just ran in to congratulate you, old man. But 
hullo. What's this, Jones, old boy, I always knew you had 
a weakness for things theatrical, but I swear it's coming it 
rather fine, to have started a Burlesque Company already. 

Mr. J. Hush De Forest ; for heaven's sake, hush. Those 
ladies are my wards. I'm their guardian. You see besides 
being owner of five millions, my late uncle was guardian to 
the three Miss Forresters. The guardianship was transferred 
to me, along with his money. The ladies are half-sisters and 
that's how two of them might be my sisters and one of them 
my grand-aunt. [Bringing DlCK forward.'] Miss Forrester, 
Miss Mildred, Miss Edith, this is my friend De Forest. 

Mr. Dick. And how does New York suit you [to Geor- 
Giana] Miss Forrester? 

Georg. Oh, we like it very well, for what we've seen of it. 
But then, of course, New York is not Philadelphia. They say 
that society is dreadfully mixed here— that one might 
actually be obliged to dine with a person whose great-great 
grandfather supplied one's own great-great ancestor with 
coats. 

Dick. Tt's very sad and very true, Miss Forrester. A 
man in New York counts himself lucky if he had a great- 
grandfather of any kind at all Most of us hadn't even a 
grandfather. 

Mil. Oh, Mr. De Forest, you don't hesitate at trifles do you ? 

Mr. J. By the way, ladies, you must be tired after your 
journey, so a little light refreshment won't be out of order. 

Georg. You are very good, Mr. Jones, but pray don't 
trouble yourself on our account. You know we only stepped 
in a moment, to consult with you on some business matters, 
before going to a hotel. 

Mr J. Not the least trouble in life. Charles will see to all 
that. {Goes out and presently re/urns]. Well, I must say there's 
something deuced queer about that English fellow of mine, 



a millionaire's trials. 15 

this morning And now about that matter of going to a hotel 
-You rausn't do that you know. While you stay in New 
York you must make this house your home, and avail your- 
selves of the best-trained servant that it was ever any fel- 
low's good luck to possess. I'll go to the hotel. 

Enter Charles bearing tray and walking unsteadily. 

MR. T. Charles! what's the matter? 

Charles. Nothing's the s'matter S'hir. 1 m s tremely com- 
fortable, S'hir. 

Mr. I. Charles, to put it mildly— you re drunk ! 

Dick. Ha ! ha ! ha ! That's rare. The Prince and Paragon 
of English servants has forgotten himself. Oh Jones ! 

Mil Dear me, Mr. De Forest, what a dreadfully sarcastic 
man you are. You make me shudder while I laugh. 

Edith. And me too. 

CHAW \balancing tray and confronting JONES]. Drunk S mr, 
did you say drunk. S'hir my feelings have been exasper- 
ated and trampled on, my lofty spirit aggrawated this morn- 
ing in various ways, but this is the last straw. Drunk! 

& Mr. J. Well never mind Charles, I'll forgive you this time. 
Only you must never do it again. 

Chaw Mr Jones, you have insulted me, but I forgive you 
from the bottom of my heart. S'hir, I was only celebrat- 
ing our accession to lofty position, Sir. I'd like to sing a little 
son? that I learned home in h'England for these ladies here. 
[ Tray over-balances, glasses fall, Charles sings We won t go home 

to morning, etc. , P urw.,,.. 

Mr. J. Get out Sir, Get out. [Hustles him out. Exit CHARLES 

singing 

"We won't go home to morning, to morning, to morning, 
We won't go home to morning, 'till daylight does appear. 

End of Scene 2— Act 1. 

Scene i —Act 2 — Time— Month from close of 1st Act. Same 
room as two former scenes. Old Mr. De Forest seated. 
Dick paces impatiently about. 

Mr De F. Oh Dick, Dick, what an impatient boy you are ! 
At twenty-five a man thinks ten minutes spent in waiting an 
eternity. Why not sit down and take things comfortably un- 
til your divinity does appear ? ,.,... , x, t 

DlCK {coming up, and standing hands in pocket, contemplates 
his father']. I say Guv'nor, were you ever in love ? 

Mr De F. Ever in love! Dick, my boy, I think your passion 
for Miss Forrester must have affected your senses ! To ask a 
man who has lived sixty years if he were ever in love ! 

Dick Look here Gu/nor, I didn't ask you how many times 
you thought you were in love, I asked you if ever in your 



16 a millionaire's trials. 

life, you knew just what the real, simon-pure sensation was 
like. [Dick sits down. 

Mr. De F. Ah, my boy, we are getting into deeper water now. 
Yes, Dick, 1 once loved — I loved my friend Paul Rutherford 
as other men love whatever is dearest to them in life. We 
were playmates in childhood, comrades in youth, dear friends 
and companions in manhood. But there came a girl — Not 
your mother Dick — there came a girl I say, lighter than 
thistledown, more beautiful than the morning, and she put 
strife between us. The last time I saw my friend — poor 
Paul ! he was staggering away from me, blinded with the 
blood of a blow he was too generous to return. Once again, 
indeed, I saw him, but then the girl had become a dream, a 
shadow, a nothing. But he — my friend, — old Paul, — was dead. 

[Leans his head on hands. 

Dick. Poor old boy. I'm sorry that he should have taken 
it so badly. All the same I wish the ladies would come. 

Enter Georgiana. 

Georg. Good-morning Mr. De Forest. Very sorry indeed 
that my sisters should not have returned from driving. 

Dick. Miss Forrester, this is my Guv'nor. Dearest old chap 
in New York, aren't you dad ? [Dick De Forest takes seat near 
Georgiana. 

Mr. De F. [aside]. Humph ! f wonder if this is the girl with 
whom I was to fall in love at first sight. Well if she is, 1 
must say the tastes of young men have altered since my day. 
Hem ! I suppose I had better give them a chance.[ Takes up 
newspaper, glancing m>cr its top occasionally. 

Dick [taking Georgiana's hand]. Miss Forrester — No, 
let me call you by a dearer name — Georgiana, I cannot tell 
you how glad I am to have this chance of speaking with you 
alone. 

Georg It's coming now ! I knew it would. Oh ! the dreads 
ful man ! 

Dick, [rubbing his forehead]. Let me see, do I remember it ? 
By jove yes ! I have it now. [ Turning to Georgiana]. 
Georgiana, I find it very difficult to speak on the subject 
which brought me here to-day. When I first met yourself 
and your charming sisters, I little knew, I little thought — that 

is — ah, I 

Georg. Exactly, dear, dear Richard. But you are very young. 

Dick. Well if I am only twenty-five, Miss Mildred isn't so 
very much over twenty-two, you know. 

Georg. Mildred ! 

Dick. Why of course, Mildred. You didn't think, dear 
Georgiana, that I was proposing for Edith, did you now? 

Georg. Mr. De Forest, / have nothing whatever to do with 
the disposal of my sister's affections. You'll have to ask Mr. 
Jones. 



a millionaire's trials. 17 

Dick. Ask Jones. Oh, if I do, may I be hanged ! 

Georg. Hanged ! oh, fie, Mr. De Forest ! 

Dick. May Tbe electrocuted then. Do now. dear Georgiana, 
give voter consent. For you know that love is the very worst 
kind of heart disease and the shock of an unexpected refusal 
might kill me. 

Mr. De F. {looking up from paper]. Well, I hope you young 
folks have settled everything to your satisfaction ? 

Dick. Say yes, Georgiana ; for Heaven's sake, say Yes. 

Georg. Oh Richard you persuade me against myself. Yes, 
Mr. De Forest, we have settled everything completely to our 
satisfaction. Com-plete-ly. 

Enter LORD HARRISFORD. 

Lord Harrisford. Aw, beg pardon, but I thought, 
you know, that Mr. Junes lived here, you know. I am Lord 
Harrisford of Harrou-sford Park, Hants. 

Dick. And I'm De Forest of Wall St. and this is Miss 
Forrester and this is my Guv'nor. 

Lord H. Haw ! delighted I'm sure. But about Mr. Jones 
now. You see some other men and myself have formed a 
little party to do the far West— shoot buffalo and all that 
sort of thing, you know— and we have heard so much of Mr. 
Jones as a sportsman, that we thought it would bea rather 
nice thing, you know, to have him for one of us. 

Dick. Ha ! ha ! ha ! so Jones' fame as a sportsman has 
reached Europe. But it's not necessary, Lord Harrisford, to 
go to the far West for buffalo— why around Broooklyn and 
Hoboken the woods are full of 'em. 

Lord H Aw, really you know, Mr. De Forest, I could 
hardly believe that you know. But at least you have no In- 
dians nearer than Philadelphia ? 

Dick. Why man there's whole encampments of 'em over 
on Staten Island, and up in Harlem. 

Enter Jones, Edith, and MILDRED. 

Dick [continues^. But here's Jones who will tell you all 
about it. Jones, this is Lord Harrisford of Harrowsford 
Park, Hants. 

Lord. H. Mr. Jones, your friend has just been telling me the 
most wonderful things about your too awfully chawming 
country. He says there's whole encampments of buffalo in 
Brooklyn and herds of Indians up in Harlem ! 

Mr. J. Lord Harrisford, I'll tell you this. Whatever De 
Forest says, you may implicitly believe. In the matter of 
truth I have never known a man who so closely resembles 
George Washington as Richard De Forest. 

Georg. But why, Lord Harrisford, do your thoughts run 
on Indians and buffaloes. I'm sure the elite of this city would 



i8 A millionaire's trials. 

be only too charmed to have you remain among them, And 
I'm quite sure, so far as our poor efforts go 

Lord H. How awfully kind you are, Miss Forrester. You 
make me change my resolution. I shouldn't wonder, if, after 
all, you know, there were some better things in this country 
than hunting blooming buffaloes. [Takes seat near GEORGIANA. 

Mr. De F. [aside']. Hunting blooming old heiresses of 
fifty for instance. [To Jones.] Come over here, Jones, I have 
something good to tell you. [Jones goes and sits by old Mr. 
De Forest. 

Mr. De F. What do you think Jones, that boy Dick has 
been up to ? Nothing less than making love to Georgiana. 

Mr. J. [jumping]. What ? 

Mr. De F. Fact. He has been raving of nothing but Miss 
Forrester for the past three weeks, and he proposed and was 
accepted by that paragon of youthful loveliness about ten 
minutes before you came in. 

Mr. J. Oh ! this is rare. [Runs over and clasps De Forest. 

Dick. Hullo, Jones, what's up ? Hang it man ! don't choke 
me. 

Mr. J. Oh Dick, Dick you're a rare 'un. 

Dick. Confound it man ! I don't understand. What is it 
all about ? 

Mr. J. Oil ! don't play the "injured innocent" game on me. 
I'm only congratulating you, you know, on your engagement 
to Miss 

Mil. Oh Dick, don't let him say it. Don't let him mention 
my name. 1 should die. 

Mr. J. On your engagement to Miss Georgiana. 

Mil. Georgiana— Oh ! Dick, Dick. 

Dick. Georgiana ! No. 1 swear it. 

Georg [rushing over to embrace Dick]. Then, dear, dear 
Richard, it wasn't a mistake after all. You do love me. 

DlCK. It was a mistake. It is a mistake. What's the mat' 
ter with all of you ? [ To Georg.] Let me go, I say. 

Old Mr. De F. [coming over and grasping Dick's arm], 
Dick, my boy, you had better face the music. I'm sorry that a 
son of mine should have flirted with one woman, while intend- 
ing to marry another. Don't be bashful in owning up. You 
see the good example Miss Georgiana sets you. 

Dick. Bother Miss Georgiana, bother it all. Let me go I 
say. [Exit. 

Georg. Oh Richard, Richard, to think you could be such 
a cruel deceiver ! [Faints. End of Scene \. Act 2. 

Scene 2. Act. 2. — Time — Evening of same day as 1st Scene 2d 
Act. Scene same as 1st three scenes. Mildred stands near 
mantel, looking at engagement ring. 

Mil. No I shall never wear you again. I never wish to see 
him again, only, only 1 wish it were not so hard to say it. 



A MILLIONAIRE S TRIALS. 19 

Never — oh I wonder is there any word in all the world so 
terrible as that one. When I try to realize its meaning, my 
courage begins to fail me, and I fear that if Dick should 
come back, I would be ready to forgive and forget everything. 
But no, I shall never do that — to think of his baseness in pre- 
tending to love me, when it was really Georgiana's thousands 
he was after. Oh it is too terrible. And to think that it all 
happened only this morning. Oh ! 1 cannot realize it. 

Enter Edith. 

Edith. What. Mildred, you didn't go to Mrs. Van Vort's re- 
ception after all then ? For anyone else to change her mind 
wouldn't be so remarkable, but for you who have always been 
the soul of consistency, such conduct is to say the least, won- 
derful. 

Mil. Oh, Edith I think you might guess easily enough why 
I didn't go. You know the kind of people one meets at Mrs. 
Van Vort's — people who know everything about astrology 
and astromony and the formation of species, and tell you all 
about it even in the intervals between the dances. 

Edith. And yet you were quite pleased last week, when 
Dick spoke of accompanying you there. 

Mil. Last week, oh, that's an eternity; that's ancient 
history. And Dick, — Dick can never be anything to me 
again. Oh, my heart will break ! 

Edith [going to her]. Why Mildred it I had known that you 
felt like this, I wouldn't have mentioned his name for the 
world. But /think it's all a mistake, — why, he said so himself, 
you remember. 

Mil. Oh yes, because he was ashamed of himself and could- 
n't very well say anything else. But oh, how I wish I could 
believe that he really meant it — it's strange, is it not, that it is 
those whom we love best, whom we are most inclined to 
doubt. [Bell rings. 

Edith. Oh Mildred perhaps that's Dick now. If it is, do 
not be ungentle to him; listen patiently to his explanation. 
If /had only done that when Jack Rivers tried to explain to 
me that miserable January night that now seems a hundred 
years ago. There are only two lessons for us women in this 
life— unwearying patience, unceasing gentleness. Remember 
that. [Exit Edith. 

Enter DlCK. 

Dick. Mildred [going up to her], Mildred ! [Mildred stands 
with her head towards mantel. 

Mil. Oh Dick — Mr. De Forest, I can't possibly imagine 
what brings you here this evening. Georgiana, you know, is 
out. If you have any message for her you can leave it with 
Edith. I'll call her. 



20 A MILLIONAIRE S TRIALS. 

Dick. Mildred, what's the matter ? You couldn't believe — 
you surely don't imagine there was any truth in that ridiculous 
supposition of my father's, that I had proposed to Geor- 
giana 

Mil. Pray Mr. De Forest, don't think of making any ex- 
planations to me. I'm not interested in them just now. Per- 
haps though Georgiana would like to have a few — for instance 
in that matter of denying what you had just spoken, and 
running away from her in the presence of everybody. 

Dick. Mildred, you talk like a big baby. I couldn't, 
shouldn't, or wouldn't marry Georgiana, even if she were the 
last woman in the world, and 1 were the last man, and we 
were alone on a desert Island. 

Mil. Mr. De Forest, all this comes too late. / can never 
believe in you again. Here is your ring. I have no further 
use for it. 

Dick. Oh, very well then, Miss Forrester. Let it be fare- 
well if you wish it so strongly. But taking back the ring 
from the hand that I once thought would be mine to clasp 
forever — I tell you once for all that you are mistaken — that no 
woman save yourself has ever heard a word of love from 
my lips. 

Mil. I used to take a great interest in romances, Mr. De 
Forest, but lately they have failed to interest me. 

Dick. In other words, Mildred, you won't believe me. 
[Mildred turns from him.] Then there is nothing for it 
but farewell. Won't you even shake hands? What, not even 
for old sakes' sake ! Then good-bye. [Exit. 

Mil. What ! he's gone. Oh, Dick, Dick,/ didn't mean it. 
I do believe you. Oh come back, come back! 

Dick {partly re-entering}. No Mildred, it's too late. 
When I wanted to explain, you threw back the words in 
my teeth. You would not even give me the chance of saying 
a word in my own defence. Even the poor courtesy of a part- 
ing hand-clasp you denied me. 

Mil. Oh Dick, I'd like to know who's the baby now ? For 
a man to have lived twenty-eight years in New York and 
six in Wall St. and not know that a woman's words are ten 
times in a dozen, the exact opposite of her meaning — Oh 
you're the greatest goose ! 

Dick. Then Mildred it goes — our engagement, 1 mean ? 

Mil. Of course it goes — Put that ring directly on my finger, 
Sir. 

Dick. And the hand Mildred, 'tis mine forever and ever, 
isn't it ? 

Mil. Forever and ever and ever, Dick. 

Dick. Dear little hand, how nearly I came to losing you. 

[Kisses it. Bell rings. 

Mil. Oh ! I wonder who can that be. Come Dick, we'll 
play boy and girl and run away. There is a beautiful moon 
to-night, and we will go out on the veranda and enjoy it. 

[Exit Dick and Mildred. 



A MILLIONAIRE S TRIALS. 2L 

Enter Lord Harrisford followed by Charles. 

Lord H. And you tell me, Chawles, that the eldest Miss 
Forrester is out — how very, very unfortunate. 

Chaw. Hextremely hunfortunate for her I should say, 
your lordship. Hextremely unfortunate. It's not every day 
that a bony fide nobleman like yourself, visits this ere 
blooming country. Why, if your Lordship will excuse me for 
saying it, it did my heyes good to see you — It was h'old 
England, and 'arf and 'arf and the Prince of Wales and my old 
master the Dook of Doverfield all over again. 

Lord H. Chawles you amaze and delight me. I thought 
hitherto, that in this country the very air— aw the — the atmos- 
phere you know — was inimical to those traditions of rev- 
erence and awe which every true-born Englishman owes 
to his superiors. 

Chaw. A Englishman, your Lordship, is a Englishman 
under any circumstances and knows his duty as sich. 

Lord H. Very well said, Chawles; very well indeed. 
You're a credit to the training of his late Grace of Doverfield. 
But about other matters now, Chawles — I suppose you're 
greatly attached to the three Miss Forresters ? 

Chaw. Attached your Lordship. Attached's a slight name 
for it. Why h's positively adore Miss Georgiana. Such grace, 
your Lordship, such dignity. Wy she might be a Duchess. 
Lord H. [aside]. And she may be a Countess. [ To Charles. J 
And Miss Georgiana you say is a — aw you understand — a lady 
of independent fortune ? 

Chaw. Hextremely hindependent fortune / should say, your 
Lordship. A hineome in her own right of thirty thousand a 
year, and no hincumbrances. Good family, too, as such things 
go in this blooming country. I heard her with my own two 
ears declare she had a great grandfather. [Noise in hall, 
Charles exit. 

Lord H. I wonder would my dignity permit me to indulge 
in a jig. The eldest Miss Forrester's the lady for me. 

[ Whistles softly — dances jig. 

Enter Charles and Man struggling. (Man who had sold 
the dog to Jones in \st Scene \st Act.) 

Lord H. Chawles, your conduct astonishes me. What's 
the meaning of this ? 

Man. Leave go of me, why don't you, and answer his whis- 
kers. I'm no burglar, I aint. 

Chaw. In my hextreme delight to see your Lordship and 
my desire to do you 'oner, I left the door it seems, a little 
ajar. What does your Lordship think, but when I goes into 
the 'all a moment ago, I finds it filled with a dozen people at 
least, all wanting to see my former master, Mr. Jones, who 
used to live here. Since he became a millionaire, my life, your 



22 A MILLIONAIRE S TRIALS. 

Lordship, has been one continued struggle to keep people 
out, who wanted to come in. 

Man. Aw come off, you red-headed British jay, you. Jones 
lives here and I'm goin' to lay for him till he pays me for me 
dorg. See. 

Enter Mrs. Merryweather. 

Mrs. Merry. Is Mr. Jones here ? No. Then if you're his 
man, Sir, tell him that Mrs. Merryweather leaves her respects, 
and desires his distinguished presence at the opening of the 
Home for Insane and Idiotic Cats, next Wednesday. 

Enter SALVATION ARMY GlRL. 

Salvation Army Girl. Is Mr. Jones at home? I have 
here some copies of the War-Cry 

Enter Man. 

Man. {with machine]. Can I see Mr. Jones ? Here is a 
little affair that I have been vainly trying to show to him 
ever since he came into his fortune. It is the handy patent 
Crank-killer, warranted to kill at a hundred paces. Shall I 
give a little exhibition of its powers to the company ? You 
work it this way. [Works machine. 

Lord H. Stop fellow, I say stop! [Belt rings. 

Chaw. Lord grant it's Miss Georgiana. She'll soon scatter 
'em. 

Enter Jones. 

Mr. J. What's this? Charles have you gone mad ? Where 
are the Miss Forresters ? 

Mrs. Merry. Sir, I come to ask you to the opening of the 
Home 

Man [with machine]. Sir, I want to show you this handy 
patent Crank-killer. It kills Anarchists, Microbes 

Sal. Army Girl. Buy a few dozen War-Cries, Sir. 

Man. I sold you a little spotted dorg over three weeks 
ago 

Mr. J. Oh good heavens. I cannot stand this. They're 
pulling me into the hall, and I'll be torn into pieces if I stay 
another minute. Excuse me, Harrisfoid. Charles, I'll send 
you up a Policeman to help you clear the premises. [Exit. 

Man [with machine to other man}. See here. I have a good 
notion to turn my patent Crank-killer on you where you 
stand, and murder you. Through you and your confounded 
spotted dog, I have lost my only chance of ever shining be- 
fore the world as a great inventor. I'll 

Man. Aw come off now, won't ver. If you had only knowed 
that dorer 



a millionaire's trials. 23 

Sal. Army Girl [to L. Harrisford]. Won't you buy a few 
War-Crys, Sir ? 

Enter Policeman McGinnis. 

Policeman. What's the matther with ye, ye divils, dis- 
turbin' the pace of a gentleman's dwellin' like this. Come 
out at once I say, every blessed mother's son of ye. 

Mrs. Merry. But Sir. 

Pol. Divil an inch I'll go till everybody else goes out 
before me. Them's Mr. Jones' ordhers. Come! March! 

Man who owned dog [points to Harrisford]. And what 
about his whiskers there. Isn't he comin' too ? 

Pol. Come on Sorr ! them's his ordhers. Every one; and 
divil an exception /'//make. 

Lord H. [rising]. Aw, this is what I call a beastly outrage you 
know. [Exit before POLICEMAN, L. Harrisford, etc., etc. 
End of Scene 2, Act 2. 

Scene i. — Act 3. Time — Afternoon, six weeks after opening 
of play, two weeks from last Scene. Room in which 
Woman Suffrage Convention is to be held. Jones and 
De Forest present. 

Mr. J. You see it's this way, De Forest. In order to win the 
niece, I must propitiate the aunt. In order to pluck the 
golden apple I must make myself solid with the old dragon 
that guards it. 

Dick.. Ah, that's your little game ? 

Mr. J. Not quite all — that's some of it. You'll have to 
take a hand in the rest. You see in order to give proper ef- 
fect to my speech on "The Forward Movement of Women 
on Murray Hill," I'll have to mount on that table. Now I 
must come down from that table through a little explo- 
sion 

Dick. Of laughter — certainly, dear boy, certainly. I'll be- 
gin now. Ha! ha! ha! 

Mr. J. No, nothing less than an explosion of dynamite. 
See I — ah— place this trifle of dynamite under the table so — 
I place the fuse thus — . Now at the proper moment — that's 
when I begin to get all mixed up — you must contrive to 
light that fuse 

Dick. And you'll jump up in the air, to come down sense- 
less and if possible, a little blackened, the first man martyr 
in the cause of Woman's Rights. 

Mr. J. Exactly, dear boy. Hoisted, as it were, by my own 
dynamite into the good graces of Maude's aunt. 

Dick. But I don't see why all this is necessary. Five 
million dollars might be a passport to any woman's favor, 
even though she be the inflexible Mrs. Ranger. 

Mr. J. Man, you don't know Maude's aunt. Not all the 



24 A MILLIONAIRE S TRIALS. 

millions in Montana would buy her. But good heavens ! 
1 have forgotten them ! 

Dick.. Forgotten what ? Jones, old fellow, this excitement 
will bring you to an early grave ! 

Mr. J. I have forgotten the notes of my speech. My only 
chance of winning the dearest girl in New York is gone. 
What shall I do?" 

Dick. Do ! why stay here of course and await the approach 
of the enemy, while 1 go back for the notes. Keep up your 
courage, old fellow. You know that in the matter of speed, 
no District Messenger was ever in it with me. [Jones alone. 

Enter Maude. 

Maude. What, you here already, Mr. Jones? Auntie will 
be delighted to think you take such a sincere interest in the 
cause. I just ran down to see that everything was in order 
for the meeting. [Busies herself with the arrangement of chairs, 
etc. 

Mr. J. Indeed now. You seem to take a mighty great in- 
terest in the cause yourself, Miss Maude, /don't understand 
much about the cause. Wouldn't you kindly explain a little 
of it to me? 

Maude. Oh ! Mr. Jones, /don't think much about Causes 
or Things. Auntie does all my thinking for me. Y)on\you 
believe it's just lovely to have somebody to do your thinking 
for you ? 

Mr. J. Well, that depends, you know. Suppose the 
person who did the thinking were about — feet — and wore 
a — gown and a — under her chin — why yes I rather fancy I 
should like to have my thinking done for me. [During this 
speech Maude picks up hammer. 

Maude. Mr. James Ferdinand Jones, I call you to order, Sir. 
— there, didn't I do that beautifully. Auntie says I'll be the 
ideal Chairwoman when I'm a few years older. 

Mr. J. [aside]. You will, will you? Not if James Ferdinand 
Jones knows it. [To Maude.] By the way, you have forgot- 
ten to mention how that forlorn specimen of doghood which 
you were kind enough to accept from me, has gotten along. 

Maude. Oh I'm the most forgetful girl. But I assure you, 
Mr. Jones, you wouldn't call him a forlorn dog if you could 
see him now. Why, he's the dearest, cutest, silkiest little dar- 
ling in the world. And you'd never guess his name. 

Mr. J. Oh it's something nice I'm sure if you did the nam- 
ing. 

Maude. Mr. Jones, I'll call you to order again. Oh, yes I 
did give him a pretty name — J. F. You know those are your 
initials. I embroidered them myself on the blue ribbon he 
wears around his dear little neck. Oh, he's the sweetest 
little fellow ! But I must go now, Mr. Jones, Auntie will 
wonder what delays me. [Exit. 



A MILLIONAIRES TRIALS. 



25 



Mr. J. What a blessed piece of unspoiled womanhood it is ! 
What a charming frankness there is in her way of telling a 
fellow that she rather likes him. 

Enter De Forest. 

Dick. Here they are Jones. [Gives note to Jones. 

Mr. J. Blessings on you Dick. But hark! here conies the 

enemy. Be sure you sit where you can reach the fuse easily. 

Enter Mrs. Ranger and Ladies. 

Mrs. R. Mr. Jones, I can't begin to say how very glad I 
am to see you here. Ladies, this is Mr. Jones, the well- 
known young millionaire who is going to rectify the mistake 
of being born a man, by making the opening speech at 
our Convention. 

Mr. J. And this, ladies, is my friend De Forest, con- 
verted, I am happy to think, to your noble cause by my 
unworthy example. [Maude takes seat near De Forest. 

Mrs. R. Mr. De Forest, you are welcome to the fold. 
As Chairwoman of this meeting I propose that Mr. 
Jones proceed with the opening address. [Raps for order. 

Mr. J. Ladies, I find myself in a position to-night that is, 
to say the least, trying. Not until a few weeks ago, 
when your gallant and honorable Chairwoman, Mrs. Ranger, 
called upon me, were my eyes opened to the wrongs of the 
fair and stronger sex. But 1 have entered this movement to- 
night to stay. I'm ready to suffer even death itself in the 
cause. If the age which evolved the bicycle, has also evolved 
the woman to guide it — If the century which has produced 
a John L. Sullivan has also produced a Dr. Mary Walker — 
If on Election Day a man will sell his vote for a little old 
two dollar bill and a schooner of lager — if I say, on Election 
Day a lady will sell her vote for a schooner of lager. Oh no, 
— f didn't mean that — If I say a lady will sell her vote for a 
schooner of lager. Oh no — that's all wrong. If a lady [consults 
notes] oh hang it, I can't find the place — if, if, {Gesticulates to 
Dick De Forest. 

Maude [to Dick]. What's the matter with Mr. Jones ? He's 
making all manner of curioui signals to you. 

Dick [jumping up]. Oh ! the fuse ! hang it, I forgot the fuse. 
[Touches fuse Explosion. Jones jtanps up in air. Ladies 
rusk over to Jones screaming : 

Oh the poor man!— Oh the blessed martyr! 

Mrs. R. What enemy to our movement contrived this ? Oh, 
if we could only find him ! 

Maude [dragging Dick forward]. Here he is, auntie. 
Here's the villain ! I saw him light it with my own eyes. 

Mrs. R. Oh, the wretch ! somebody go for a policeman this 
minute. 



26 a millionaire's trials. 

Dick. But good heavens ! Mrs. Ranger ! Ladies ! this is all 
a mistake. Jones! [Jones groans. 

Dick. Jones! Jones groans again. 

Dick [to Ladies]. Let me go I say. [Runs to door; enter 
Policeman. 

Pol. So ye'd be going, would ye now. Troth it's a nice- 
looking Herr Most you are anyway. Oh, don't struggle. Come 
on now. 

Dick. But officer, this is all a mistaKe. Confound it man, 
I must speak to Jones. 

Pol. Ah, ye bloody-minded Anarchist, it's after finishing 
the poor divil ye'd be. Come on now, Inspector Byrnes will 
soon settle your hash, me boy. [De Forest breaks away, is 
pursued by officer, who in attempting to seize him gets an 
ignominious fall. [Exit DlCK. End of Scene I, Act 2. Slow close 
in of side scenes for Jersey Scene, or to drop an interior curtain for 
same purpose. 

Scene 2 — Act 3. Time, same week as 1st Scene, 3d Act. A 
Country Scene in Jersey \ 

Dick [sitting on slump or stile]. I'm hanged if I'll ever 
blow up a man again ! Here I have been exiled in these 
fersey wilds for the past two weeks, without even a word 
from Jones to say whether he had won the affections of 
Maude's aunt, and that so I might resume my place in civil- 
ized society again. And I suppose that poor girl Mildred's half 
heart-broken by this time. 

Enter Farmer, rake in hand etc. 

Farmer. Good morning Mister ! Guess ye're over from 
York, aren't you. Don't like York myself since I was bun- 
coed out of a hull quarter there in one of those danged 
museums, but I'd know a York man any place. Guess ye'r 
over here for your health, be'ant you ? 

Dick. Ha! ha! ha! For the health of the mosquitoes, I 
o;uess. And now if you're good at conundrums here's a 
little one for you. — What's the difference between the busi- 
ness end of a mosquito and the club of a New York Police- 
man ? 

Far. Give it up. Guess you're one of them idjits that 
makes their living by keeping other people all the time 
on the dead grin. Mebbe though in yer own case the difference 
between the Muskeetor and the Policeman's club is the 
North River. 

Dick. Say, you're too smart for a Jerseyman. Come over 
to New York and I'll let you into such a little green-goods 
game as will make the eyes bulge in your head. 



A MILLIONAIRE S TRIaLS. 27 

Enter LORD HARRISFORD, dressed like a "Puck" Englishman, 

white helmet, shooting jacket, musket over shoulder, 

leggings etc. 

Dick. But here comes Harrisford, as I'm a sinner. Good 
bye Jersey ! i'll see you later. 

Far. [looking after him]. Great gosh ! there's my only 
chance of ever becomin' a rich man gone. Who'd ha' 
thought that an innocent-looking chap like that was a green- 
goods man anyway — If I'd ha' only known it 

Lord H. See here my good man. Where do you keep 
your buffaloes around here ? Here I have been tramping 
around this beastly province for the past three days, and 
by Jove ! haven't had the chance of one solitary shot at big 
game in all that time. 

Far. See here Mister 

Lord H. Sir, you probably don't know, you know, that 
you're addressing Lord Harrisford, of Harrowsford Park 
Hants. 

Far. Look ye here then, Mr. Lord Harrisford Park Hants, 
if that's yer name. The buffaloes air rather scarce 'round 
this neighborhood, jest now, but the kentry's chock-full 
o' other kinds of big game. 

Lord H. You don't tell me so. I had really begun to fancy, 
you know, that I had been made the victim of a beastly 
sell, you know. The fact is there don't seem much cover 
around here for any kind of game, anyhow. 

Far. Oh Jersey's more civilized than people think on, 
Mr. Harrisford Hants. Why only a few minutes before you 
come up, one of the smartest green-goods men from York 
was here, givin' me points on a little green goods game 
of his'n. Wisht he had stayed. This farm-work may be all 
very well for them that hasn't a soul above it, but for me, 
give me city life and a swaller-tail coat any day. 

Lord H. By Jove yaas ! I fancy you'd cut a remarkably 
brilliant figure in a swallow-tail. — But about that matter 
of the big game 

Far. Great Gosh ! there's plenty of 'em about here, 
Muskeetors, as long as your arm and as wicked as sea 
sarpints you'll find anywhere's from here to Hoboken. 

Lord H. To Hoboken. Don't mention it. Rather say 
to the Dead Sea at once, you know. But as to attacking the 
mosquitoes of this blawsted province, T assure you on my 
honor as an English gentleman that I wouldn t attempt 
that. 

Enter Mrs. Merryweather with basket. 

Lord H. My good lady, have you seen any large game 
around here ? 

Mrs. Merry. Sir, I beg to inform you that I'm not at 



28 a millionaire's trials. 

all interested in large game. At the present time I'm en- 
gaged in a search for small game myself. 

Lord H. Upon my word, Madam, you re highly interesting. 
And for what small game, may 1 awsk, are you searching ? 

Mrs. Merry. For cats Sir. For friendless and Insane cats. 
Ah, you don't, know, Sir, what sacrifices 1 have made in that 
glorious cause. Until recently our society was confined to 
New York, but now it has spread its happy influence to neigh- 
boring cities and in me you behold the New Jersey Executive 
Branch. [To the Farmer.] Have you seen any Insane or Idiotic 
cats in this direction, Sir ? 

Far. Jerusalem ! but this is great One comes to Jer- 
sey for buffaloes and the other for Insane Cats. How I wish 
that green-goods man from York was round here now. 
Wouldn't he jest howl ! 

Lord H. Well by Jove, I must say this is a queer country. 
A lady devotes her time to the cultivation of Insane members 
of the feline tribe and glories in the fact. When 1 ask for 
big game I am advised to shoot mosquitoes. Well, I must say 
good-morning. My road lies this way. [Exit. 

Mrs. Merry. And mine lies this way. To the rescue of the 
friendless cat. [Exit. 

Far. Wish that chap from York *ud come back. He 
said he'd see me later and let me into a little green goods 
game of his'n. But them city sports has mighty short mem- 
ories. Howsomever I kin wait. [Whistles. 

Enter De FOREST. 

Dick. Hello Jersey. Thought I'd find you dead from 
an overdose of English nobleman. And that reminds me— I 
heard a little thing down at the club the other night that 
thoroughly fits the case of Lord Harrisford of Harrowsford 
Park, Hants. [Sings : 

A BRITISH PEER UP-TO-DATE. 

I. He is an Englishman, Don't you see ? Don't you know ? 
Of a high, patrician clan, Don't you know 
He's a howling British swell 
And the waiters love him well 
Down at the Waldorf hotel, Don't you see ? Don't you know ? 

CHORUS— For he's got ten thousand a year 

Don't you see ? Don't you know ? 
And he is a British peer, 

Don't you know ? 
At a breakfast or a ball 
With the ladies short or tall 
Oh he is the darling of all 

Don't you see ? Don't you know ? 



A MILLIONAIRE S TRIALS. 29 

2. He drinks champagne at the bars, Don't you see ? Don't you know? 
Smokes unlimited cigars, Don't you know ? 

As he canters down the mile 

The Duchesses all smile 

For they do so like his style, Don't you see ? Don't you know ? 

3. He has got his horses and hounds, Don't you see? Don't you know? 
Keeps his shooting-box and grounds, Don't you know ? 

At the races he's the rage 

And he's known upon the stage 

By each actor, prince and page, Don't you see ? Don't you know ? 

4. He's been single all his life, Don't you see, Don't you know ? 
And it's thought he wants a wife, Don't you know? 

But what girl within this town 

Would aspire to that renown [Don't you catch the point ? 

Must come with a million down, Don't you see ? Don't you know ? 

End of Scene 2, Act. 3. 

Scene 3— Act 3. Time— Evening, week after Woman 
Suffrage Convention. Room in which Woman Suffrage Con- 
vention has been held. Jones seated, his head bandaged, etc. 

Mr. J. By jove, it's a mighty nice thing to be blown 
up by dynamite. 1 wonder what has become of poor De 
Forest. 

Enter Maude. 

Maude. Poor Mr. Jones. I do hope you feel better. 

Mr. J. Miss Ranger — Maude, do you really care so very 
much ? 

Maude. Why, of course I care very much. You do ask the 
silliest questions ! 

Mr. J. Then I'm going to ask a sillier one yet. Maude, 
how does the title of Mrs. James Ferdinand Jones please 
you ? 

Maude. Why, are those all your names, Mr. Jones? You 
might be an Austrian Archduke, you have such a string of 
'em. J-a-m-e-s Ferd-in-and Jones. Yes, it sounds very 
musical. 

Mr. J. [rising]. Now, my dear girl, this playing at cross- 
purposes will never do. Perhaps I will not soon have 
another opportunity of saying what I wish to tell you this 
morning. Surelv, dear Maude, you must have seen — can you 
not guess, what I would say to you ? Will you not make me 
the happiest fellow in the world, by promising to become my 
wife ? 

Maude. Your wife ! James Ferdinand, why that's the silliest 
question of all— of course I'll be your wife. {Drops courtesy 
to her reflection in mirror.'] I salute you, Madam la Millionaire. 
We'll have a house on the corner, a box at the Opera, 



3° A millionaire's trials. 

and thousands of beautiful gowns. [ Goes back to Jones.] 
James Ferdinand Jones, do you know what you are ? You're 
a darling. But you'll have to ask auntie. 

Mr. J. Ask that old dragon, Maude ? Oh, you may frown, 
but she is a dragon. 

Maude. Well you can tell that to herself now. 

Enter Mrs. Hanger. [Jones sits down. 

Maude. Oh auntie ! Mr. Jones has just been saying 
the sweetest things about you. He said that you were 
a 

Mr. J. Maude ! 

Maude. That you were a 

Mr. J. Maude ! 

Mrs. R. Leave the room directly, Maude. Don't you see 
how you're exciting our poor patient ? For all your training 
you re no better than an over-grown school girl \Exit 
Maude. Mrs. Ranger takes seat tiear Jones. 

Mr. J Mrs. Ranger, 1 have just been telling your niece of 
a little plan of mine 

Mrs. R. Exactly, dear Mr. Jones— Go ahead. 

Mr. J. It's this. I'm going to consecrate the rest of my life 
to the noble work of emancipating your sex. But I can't do it 
alone. 

Mrs. R. And you shan't have to do it alone. I'll help you 
Susan B. Anthony will help you. Dr. Mary Walker will help 

Mr. J. Ah, your'e very generous, Mrs. Ranger. But you 
have a great many interests to attend to. I want somebody 

Maude yS by my SidG ' N ° W if y ° U COU,d s P ar * 

Mrs. R. Spare Maude— what do vou mean, Mr. Jones ? 
Mr I. Why, that I'd very much like to marry vour niece, 

Mrs. Hanger. ' 

Mrs.R. My niece! marry a man. Oh [Swoons. 

Mr. J. Maude ! Maude ! 

Enter MAUDE. 

Maude. Oh, auntie, what's the matter ! 

Mrs. R. {opening her eyes}. Maude— he— wants— to marry 
you. J 

Mr. J. Good Heavens, Mrs. Ranger, listen to sense for a mo- 
ment. In me your niece will marry a martyr as well as a man 
When we are married I will grant her every possible privilege 
the heart of a manly woman could desire. 

™ RS 't R ' Maude - De so g° od a s to check off on your fingers, 
as Mr. Jones names them, those privileges for which he would 
have you exchange your liberty. 
Mr. J. Well then, dear Maude, I'll show you how to fold 



a millionaire's trials. 3 1 

your pasters on Election Day, and side by side we'll go to the 
pulls and cast our vote. 

Maude. Very good Mr. Jones. That's one. {Number s on her 

fingers. 

Mr. J. I'll teach you how to overcome the scruples of the 
bashful voter. 

Maude. That's two. 

Mr. J. I'll instruct you in the manly art of self-defence, a 
la Mr. J as. Corbett. , 

Maude. How delightful ! just fancy my little hands in a 
big pair of boxing-gloves. That's three. 

Mr. J. I'll show you how to pick out the winner in a 
Guttenburg steeplechase. I'll teach you how to guide the 
obstinate bicycle. I'll— Oh hang it. I'll do whatever any 
fellow could do to make his wife happy 

Mrs. R. James Ferdinand Jones, you're an exception to 
your sex. As an exception to your sex, I'll accept you for my 

nephew. ^ . ., ,-, 

Mr. J. Dear Mrs. Ranger you're a jolly good fellow, her- 
mit me to embrace my future aunt 

MRS R [rising]. Well, dear Mr. Jones, I must say good-bye 
for a short time. Business connected with the cause calls me 
away from vour side. Au revoir. Come Maude. [After a 
moment, J ONES walks to window and looks out. 

Mr T. Thank Heaven she's gone at last. No mother- 
in-law was ever in it with Mrs. Ranger. But 1 wonder what 
the jolly old girl will say afterwards, when she finds out 1 m 
just a man— a mere man. 

Enter Maude. 

Maude. Oh Mr. Jones 

Tones. Maude dear, you must learn to call me by m\ 'first 
name now, vou know. Call me James Ferdinand, or if you 
like it better, simple James. 

Maude. Simple James ! oh that's charming! Well then 
simple Tames, I want to ask you a little question now that 
Auntie's gone. I have been thinking quite seriously over 
some things, these past few davs. 

Mr. J. Thinking, Maude ! Why 1 thought your aunt did 
all your thinking for vou ? , 

Maude. Well not quite quite all. Now about yourself, tor 
instance. 1 rather think you weren't hurt so very very 
much in that dynamite explosion. 

Mr. J. Maude, you're a miracle of oiscernment. 1 wasn t 
hurt at all. , , , . , T , 

Maude. Oh, I see through it all. At least 1 think 1 do 
It was just a little trick arranged between yourself and 
Mr De Forest in order to blind poor auntie 

Mr. T. Exactly, dear girl. But you musn't give it away, 
you know, even yet, lest by any possibility it would reach 



32 A MILLIONAIRE S TRIALS. 

your aunt's ears. Not a word of it even to Georgiana or 
Mildred or Edith. 

Maude. And what will become of poor Mr. De Forest? 
Perhaps he'll be hunted down and tried as an Anaichi&t. 

Mr. J. Oh Dick's pretty sure to ligiit on his Jeet under 
any circumstances. And now Maude, I want to ask you a 
tew questions. Of course you can answer them just as you 
please. Whatever they may be they won't alter the lact 
that you're the dearest girl in the world. 

Maude. Well James Ferdinand, you do know how to say 
nice things. 

Mr. J. Well then Maude, here's question Number One — 
It's a mighty delicate one I know — but would you really care 
to vote? 

Maude. James Ferdinand 1 shouldn't want to do such 
a thing under any possible circumstance — unless that vou 
wanted me to do so. 

Mr. J. And you don't care a continental for the Marquis 
of Queensberry rules — I mean you wouldn't care to take 
boxing-lessons, even from me. 

Maude. The idea ! 

Mr. J. And you'll never ask to go to Guttenburg or to 
propel the festive bicycle ? 

Maude. Oh James Ferdinand I'm not strong-minded. It's 
only auntie thinks me so I don't want to vote, and I don't 
wish to know anything about voting, and 1 wouldn't be seen 
on a bicycle, and the only kind of a horse-race I want to bet 
on is the horse-race at a church Fair. But I must go now. 
I have stayed too long already. Good-bye. [Exit Maude. 

Mr. J. By Jove, here's a good chance for singing that song. 
[Sings: — 

THE END OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY MAN. 

Let others sing the days of old 

Their warriors bold and maidens fair 
Such themes but slight attractions hold 

To charm a modern millionaire; 
His ideals are of other mold 

They're built upon a later plan, 
He takes delight to sing to-night 

The End of the Nineteenth Century Man. 

Chorus — Search the ages through and through 
Find among them if you can, 
Anything quite equal to 
The End of the Nineteenth Century Man. 

Varied types of him we've seen 

Scattered o'er the world's wide span 
London, Paris, New Orleans, 

Berlin and Jerusalem; 



a millionaire's trials. 33 

Each its own type forward brings 

Modelled on a special plan, 
But New York supplies the true 

End of the Nineteenth Century Man. 

Chorus. 

CHORUS — Right from Twenty Third street down 
To Wall they go in grand review, 
The world-famed men of our town 

Croker, Williams, Byrnes, Depew, 
Financiers of- high renown — 

Earth holds not the like of them, 
All first-rate and up-to-date 

End of the Nineteenth Century Men. 

Chorus 
I'm one of the four hundred now 

And if you my appearance scan 
I think you quickly will allow 

I am a most genteel young man. 
And on my breast henceforth I vow 
To wear the gold chrysanthemum 
That labels still on Murray Hill 

The End of the Nineteenth Century Man. 

Chorus. 
End of Scene 3, Act 3. 

Scene i— Act 4. Same room as 1st Scene of 1st Act. Time — 
Morning one week after close of last Act. Georgiana on 
sofa. Lord Harrisford on his knees beside her. 

Lord H. Then you refuse me still, Georgiana. You won't be 
Lady Harrisford. 

Georg. Oh ! how can i when I think of Richard. But 
you have a very nice place in Hampshire, you say ? 

LORD H. And a shooting-box in the Highlands, and a stall 
at the Opera, and the most delightfully wicked reputation 
in London. Do, my angel, say you'll be mine. I'm awlully 
tired kneeling. 

Georg. You awful man ! [Extends her hand. LORD Har- 
risford about to kiss it, is interrupted by entrance of man 
who sold [ones, the dog, in \st Act. LORD H. jumps up. 
Georgiana faints. 

Chaw, [to man]. Come h'out at once, I say ! 

Man. Where's Jones — Dat's de bloke what bought me dorg. 
I tell you I must see Jones. 

Lord H. Chawles ! I say eject the man ! 

Man. Look here, you two British Jays. I want me money 
or me dorg ! See ? 

Lord H. What price did you put upon the miserable 

hound, Sir ? I'll give you a guinea for him to get rid of you. 

Man. Aw, come off. Me dorg was no miserable hound, 

but a spotted purp what Mr. Wanderbilt sent me on me last 

birthday, and 1 want five bones for him. 

Lord H. My good man, do you take me for a cannibal? 
Five bones ? What do v'ou mean, Sir ? 



34 A millionaire's trials. 

Chaw. Oh, in this 'ere blooming country that's the name 
for dollars, you know, your Lordship. [Georgiana groans. 

Lord H. Here's the money for your miserable cur, Sir. 
Get out. [Exit man.] Chawles get some water quick {Exit 
Charles.] Wake up. my angel. Wake up, Georgiana. 

Enter Charles, with water. 

Don't you hear me, my angel— [sprinkles water}. It's all right 
Chawles, you may go. [Harrisford kneels. 

Georg. Is that you, dear Richard . 

Lord H. No Georgiana, it's Harrisford, dear Harrisford, 
you know. Look at me, my angel ! 

Georg. He calls me his angel. Oh ! [Swoons. Bell rings. 
Harrisford jumps up. 

Georg. Harrisfoid, stay where you are — a moment — you 
called me your angel — I am. Yes, George Frederick, you 
may. [Lord H. kisses her hand. Door opens. 

Enter JONES. 

Mr. J. Has anyone seen De Forest? 

Lord H. Jones, my dear fellah, you come in the very nick 
of time. Miss Forrester — ah — you know — Georgiana, — has 
consented to be Lady Harrisford. We need ox\\y your con- 
sent to be perfectly happy. 

Mr. J. [shakes hands}. You have it, Harrisford, my boy, you 
have it. But I forgot. I'm a family man. 1 must ask you 
a few questions. 

Georg. Oh ! dear Mr. Jones, it's no. necessary. I'm nis 
angel now and next year, I'll be Lady Harrisford of Harrows- 
ford Park, Hants. 

Mr. ]. Ha ! ha ! ha ! very good indeed. Very good. 
You're an angel now, but next year you'll be an archangel 
of the seventh heaven. Harrisford, you're a trump. 

Enter Mildred and Edith. 

Mil. Oh Mr. Jones, have you heard anything of Dick — of 
Mr. De Forest, I mean ? We haven't seen him for nearly two 
weeks. 

Mr. J. And two weeks are an eternity where Dick's con- 
cerned, eh, Mildred ? 

Mil. And oh, Mr. Jones, forgive us for not thinking of it 
before for you do look very well, but have you quite recovered 
from the effects of the explosion ? 

Mr. J. The explosion. Ha! ha! ha! 

Edith Why he treats it as a joke. 

MR. J. And it is a joke. The best joke of the season. Ha! 
ha! ha! 

Mil. [clasping Edith]. Why poor Mr. Jones has gone 



*„ millionaire's trials. 35 

crazy. The shock of the explosion has unsettled his mind. 

Edith. Do now, Mr. Jones, be quiet. There's a dear. Sit 
down. 

Mil. Do now, Mr. Jones. 

Georg. Come and sit down here, Mr. Jones. [Places chair. 

Mr. J. God bless me. I'm not tired. I must find De Forest. 

[ Turns as if to go. 

Mil. There he's gone now. Stark, staring mad. And he 
never even told us the name of the villain who attempted his 
life. Oh ! Mrs. Ranger! 

Enter Mrs. Ranger, 

Mrs. R. Dear Mr. Jones, we have been so frightened and so 
anxious about you. You shouldn't risk your precious life by 
leaving the house so soon, you know. Have you heard any- 
thing of that wretch, De Forest? 

Mil. She calls Richard a wretch ! 

Georg. [from sofa]. Dear, dear Richard. 

Lord H. Oh, hang it ! Georgiana, you ought to drop that 
you know. Say dear, dear George Frederick. 

Mrs. R. I hope you'll all be kind enough to excuse Mr. 
Jones. But a little Committee of the Murray Hill Woman's 
Rights Association, await his coming impatiently at my home. 

Mr. J. [aside]. Oh ! Lord, talk about a lamb led to the 
slaughter. [7>Mrs. Ranger.] I'm ready, Mrs. Ranger. Au re- 
voir! [Exit Mrs. Ranger followed by |ONES shaking his fist. 

Georg. Come here, Edith. Come here Mildred. [Rises and 
points to Harrisford.J Behold your future brother-in law ! 

Lord H. Aw, it's a very trying, I mean a very delight- 
ful position, you know, and I'll try to live up to it. 

Mil. And you'll be Lady Harrisford, won't you Georgiana? 
And have a cute little countesses' crest on your stationery. 
And when we go over to England, you'll present us to 
the Queen. 

Edith. Dear old Georgiana. How very delightfully charm- 
ing you two people are. 

Enter old Mr. De Forest. 

Mr. De F. Good Morning Ladies. Have any of you seen 
my boy Dick ? Have you seen him, Miss Mildred ? He has 
disappeared and I can't find a trace of him. 

Mil. Then he has gone without saying a word to anyone. 
Without a word even to me. Oh, what could induce him to 
run away like that ! 

Georg. Richard has disappeared. Harrisford, do you 
hear that. You called me your angel a moment ago. I want 
you to prove it now 

Lord H. As how, my sweetness? 

Georg. By finding Richard. George Frederick, if you 



36 a millionaire's trials. 

ever wish to call Georgiana Forrester of Walnut Street, 
Philadelphia, Lady Harnsford of Harrowsford Park, you 
must go at once and find Richard. 

Mil. Georgiana, you're the very dearest sister in the world. 

Lord H. All right my love. All right my angel ! I'll find 
Richard, even if I have to hunt for him amidst the Indians 
of Staten Island or the buffaloes around Hoboken. I'll find 
Richard even if I have to go back again to Jersey. You 
couldn't avvsk a greater proof of a man's devotion than that, 
could you dear ? 

Georg. Dear, dear George Frederick. 

Edith. Kind Lord Harrisford. 

Mil. I'll never be able to thank you enough for your good- 
ness. 

Lord H. [faking Mr. De Forest's arm]. Come Mr. De For- 
est, when George Frederick, nineteenth Earl of Harrisford, 
gives his word to do anything, that thing may be said to be 
already done. I'll find Richard. 

Georg. Wait a moment George Frederick. In your noble 
zeal to find Richard you forgot your eyeglass. Let me fas- 
ten it. There ! 

Lord H. Right there my angel. [Kisses her. Exit Lord 
Harrisford ^Mr, De Forest. End of 1st Scene 4th Act. 

Scene 2. — Act 4. Same room as in 1st three scenes of istAct. 
Time — Evening few days after close of 1st Scene 4th Act. 

Edith [alone. Goes to the looking glass]. — Only twenty-two 
and yet to think that my life is ended — quite ended. I am 
utterly weary of this wretched farce of dining and dressing 
and laughing when one could weep. Oh ! Jack, Jack, if I could 
only recall those words that sent you away to the wild Arctic 
seas, this night two years ago. [ Walks away from mirror and 
picks up flowers. 

Poor roses. I wore you that night here on my breast. I re- 
member he said you were not nearly so pink as my cheeks. 
I remember— ah, all life seems only a remembrance now. 
[ Takes up letters] Here they are, not so many of them. 
One came with a volume of poetry. One with an offering of 
rare blossoms. One — ah, cruel little note, the hands that wrote 
and folded you are still enough now. [Replaces letters. 
Takes up violin or goes to piano] Poor old violin, I wonder 
do I remember how to play you. [Plays. Afterwards goes over 
to table and drops her head on her hand.] Oh ! Jack ! Jack ! 
Jack ! 

Mil. Oh Edith, why will you mope so ? Always thinking 
of that lost lover of yours. As if thinking could bring him 
back. You make me miserable. And indeed I am wretched 
enough already in being unable to hear or see anything of 
poor Dick. 



A MILLIONAIRE S TRIALS. 37 

Edith. And Dick has been gone scarcely three weeks and 
Jack has been lost for two years. And you — ah, at least you 
have the comfort of thinking that the last words between you, 
were words of kindness. Not words of unheeded pleading 
on the one hand, and of bitter scorn on the other. Oh, Jack, 
Jack could you only come back from the green seas, how 
quickly I would unsay every cruel word. 

Mil. Now Edith do give over such useless regrets. Look 
here dear ; take up your violin and play the music of that old 
song we all sang together this night two years ago. We 
were all very happy then, though how / could have been 
happy before I knew Dick, I cannot now understand. [Edith 
takes up violin. Mildred sings old song. 

Georgiana enters during singing. 

Georg. Dear me, girls. It seems to me as though neither 
of you were very happy. Here's a letter for you, Edith. 
Somehow the writing seems strangely familiar. 

Mil. And oh, Georgiana, I see there is no use in asking 
the question — Dick has not been found ? 

Georg. No, I have just had a telegram from Lord Harris- 
ford who is now over in Jersey, and he tells me that in his ef- 
forts to find him, he has been buncoed twice, nearly sand- 
bagged once and barely escaped with his life from a trolley- 
car. Oh, the courage of Harrisford is something wonder- 
ful — wonderful ! 

Edith. Oh Mildred, Oh Georgiana, you'll never guess who 
this letter is from — why from Jack himself. Only he and two 
others of all who went on the expedition were saved. And he 
has lived through the most dreadful hardships, the most hor- 
rid privations, kept up he says, through it all, by the. thought 
of coming: back to cruel me. 

Mil. Dear Edith, I'm very glad for your sake. Oh! if I 
could only hear from Dick. 

Georg. Never mind Mildred. Harrisford will find him. 
Oh, you don't know of what heroism George Frederick is 
capable. [ Tremendous ring of door-bell. 

Enter hurriedly Dick De Forest and Charles. 

Chaw. What's hup, Sir ! What's the trouble ? 

Georg. Oh Richard, dear Richard ! 

Mil. Oh Dick, dear Dick, where have you been ? 

Georg. O Richard, have you seen Lord Harrisford ? 

Dick. Hide me somewhere. They're after me. Don't 
say a word. [Ladies push him under table and seat themselves 
about it. 

Enter POLICEMAN. 

Police. Where is he, 1 say ? Let me get at the scoundrel. 



38 a millionaire's trials. 

Georg. What scoundrel, officer ? I don't think we look 
particularly like people who'd harbor scoundrels. Besides 
there's no man here except Charles, and he's only a servant. 

Pol. Didn't 1 see him runnin' up the stoop wid me own 
two eyes. An' he's an Anarchist o' the worst description. 
But if it had been only an ould speculator like Russel Sage 
he wanted to murdher, the divil a much I'd a minded. But to 
think that he'd want to blow up that poor harmless idjut 
Jones 

Georg. Oh officer, you don't mean it — Surely it wasn't he 
that attempted to blow up our guardian ? 

Pol. Oh it was him and the divil another. An' it was just 
when poor Mr. Jones was at the height of his oration to them 
ould Murray Hill Wimmen's Rights Wimmen, that he 
comes along wid his ould dynamite to blow him into King- 
dom come. Troth it was the ondacintest deed I ever knew. 

Georg. [to Mildred]. Ah, that's the meaning of our guar- 
dian's silence about the name of his would-be-assassin. But 
I'd never — no never — have believed it of Richard. 

Mil. And /don't believe it yet. 

Georg. [to Police]. Officer, the man you want is not here. 
You have made a mistake. We wouldn't touch an anarchist 
even with our finger-tips. 

Pol. Troth mam and I'll say it to your face, you don't look 
as if you would. Anyhow I don't see him here, though I seen 
him as plain as a pike-staff on tiie stoop. Maybe though, the 
shock of that fall he gave me sphoiled me eyesight and that 
I see double. Och ! he'll see double when I lay me hands 
on him. [Georgiana goes out and returns with bottle 
and glass which she places before POLICEMAN. 

Georg. Officer, here is a little refreshment. It will do you 
no harm after your fruitless race — No, it's not lemonade. 

[Policeman drinks. 

Pol. Troth mam and it's a fine dhrop ye keep. And now 
ladies I guess I'll be getting a move on me. [Exit Policeman. 
De Forest emerges from beneath table looking dishevelled. 

Dick. Do you"hear that. Mildred ? I'm an Anarchist, I am. 
I'm a follower of Herr Most. I blew up Jones. 

Mil. Well I must say you are a rather desperate-looking 
character. 

Georg. But Richard, I cannot believe it. You to blow 
up our Guardian ! you, his best friend. Oh it's quite im- 
possible. 

Dick. Oh, I can't explain it. Jones can. Why the deuce 
he hasn't done so before this and given me a chance to 
enter civilized society without the fear of being grabbed by 
a policeman at every corner, is more than / can understand. 

Re-enter POLICEMAN. 

Mil. Oh Dick, Dick hide yourself ; there's that aw- 
ful officer again. 



A MILLIONAIRE S TRIALS. 



39 



Dick. Too late Mildred. All I have got to do now is to 
stand my ground. 

Pol. Ah ! ye infernal Rooshian I have ye safe and sound 
at last. 1 heard your voice through the crack of the dure 
just as I wint out and it was the divil's own luck, I did hear 
ye at all. Come on me bye. Byrnes will be glad to have a 
little conversation wid ye. 

Georg. But officer, this man — Mr. De Forest isn't guilty. 
Do you not think now that we might arrive at a little under- 
standing. At a little adjustment — ah, officer you know what 
I mean. 

Pol. Troth mam I think I do. But whatever his other 
faults and failings, Officer Mc Ginnis is above bribes mam. 
What soort of a bribe now do you think would compenshate 
a man for an eye like this ? Oh, he's a firsht-class scoun- 
drel, and '11 look beautiful in a striphed shirt. Come with me 
Sorr. 

Mil. But officer this is a mistake — an outrage. Dick, Dick, 
I say you shan't go. No, you shant ! 

Dick. Never mind Mildred dear. It won't amount to 
anything. Only you had better tell Jones. It's all only the 
biggest kind of a blunder. 

Pol. Troth Sir, an' yer'e right there. It is the biggest 
kind of a blunder for you. No Miss, don't cry ; the omadaun's 
not worth it. [Exit Police and Dick. ' Mildred falls 
sobbing. End of Scene. 

Scene 3d. Act 4. 



Side Scenes. 



Side Scenes. 



o 

Chair. 



o 

Chair. 



Judge's Desk. 

O O 

Foot Lights. 



o 

Chair. 



Clerk's Desk. 



Scene 3 — Act 4. Court room. Court is being temporarily 
held in room of hotel. Policeman McGinnis near desk. De 
Forest sits in dejected attitude. 

Pol. Ah, it's there ye are, me boy, sittin' as free an' aisy 
as if ye rinted the place and run the business. Divil a cooler 
hand I ever seen in me life. Be jabers an it's a mighty soft 
sate you have of it anyway in this foine grand hotel room, 
compared to what ye'd have had in the ould Court-House that 
was burned down last week. Haw, ye decateful divil, I sup- 
pose it's conthriving a new dynamite cartridge ye are. Be- 
gorra and it's meself will get promoted when this arrest 
reaches Headquarters. Troth it's enough to make a man 
sing. 



40 A MILLIONAIRE S TRIALS. 

I am Officer Mc Ginnis of the lgth Precinct Squad 

A credit to the finest as you see. 
1 was born in Connemara, but I landed in New Yonc 

In the end of January, '93 
But I knew a man, who knew a man who knew the Janitor 

Of the Hall down in Fourteenth St., so of course, 
With some very slight evasions of the Civil Service Questions, 

I at once became a member of the Force. 

CHORUS — As I walk along my beat 

In my uniform neat 

The ladies with great pleasure do me scan; 

While the people passing by 

As they wink their leeward eye 

Say Mc Ginnis is a very happy man, 
Yes, Mc Ginnis is a very happy man. 

At the Grand Central Palace, oh, it's there I most do shine, 

And if you but come up there any night, 
You will see me standing stiffly as Napoleon Bonaparte 

And I think you will pronounce me "out of sight." 
But it's soon I will be climbin' up promotion's slippery rung, 

Oh a celebrated man I'll surely be; 
An Inspector or a Captain, you may safely bet your hat on, 

One of these fine days, you'll Dan McGinnis see. 

Enter Clerk of the Court. 

Pol. Well Sorr, how does that bit of a verse suit you ? 

Clerk. Oh it's great. But what's this, McGinnis. A con- 
fidence man or a Drunk and Disorderly. 

Pol. Oh he's disordherly enough, but if he's dhrunk 
with anything at all, it's with villainy. See the eye he 
has given me. Sure an' if his Honor don't give him five years 
for this, bad luck to another day I'll ever sarve on the force. 

Dick [jumping up}. Confound it all. What kind of a 
Court is this anyway, where a fellow's compelled to sit two 
hours listening to a fool policeman. Oh ! if I could only see 
Jones ! 

Pol. Now ye can see for yourself Sorr, the kind of a 
"disordherly" he is. He's not content wid blowing up a harm- 
less fellow-crature, but he wants to see the remains. Aw me 
bird ye'll sing another song when ould Judge Finnegan takes 
ye in hand. 

Clerk. You're right there, McGinnis. The Finnegan brand 
of Justice is the only thing of its kind on this blessed Island. 
Last week there was a mighty tough case of Drunk and Dis- 
orderly up before him "What's your name, me lad," says the 
fudge in that soft confidential way of his. " Arrah, is it me 
name you'd like to know" says the fellow, thinking he had 

struck a soft thing and winking knowingly at His Honor 

"Shure if you'd like to know me name, it's Denis, Denis 
Finnegan, your honor, a second cousin of your own." "Stop 






a millionaire's trials. 41 

there" says the old man, getting black as thunder. "Your 
name, Sir, is not Denis at all. It's Mud. Just plain Mud. 
Six months on the Island." 

Enter Judge Finnegan. [Takes seat.] 

Clerk. Silence in the Court. The case of the people ver- 
sus Richard De Forest to the bar, [Policeman brings De For- 
est forward. 

Clerk [still reading}. Richard De Forest, you are charged 
with attempting to take the life by means of dynamite of one 
James Ferdinand Jones. Also with the high crime and mis- 
demeanor of resisting the majesty of the law as embodied in 
the person of Officer McGinnis of the Nineteenth Precinct. 
Prisoner, what have you to say to these charges ? 

Dick [aside]. What will I do ? Plead not guilty or betray 
Jones ? Well er-er-er. 

Judge. Make a direct answer to the charge, Sir. Did you 
or did you not attempt the life of a fellow-man by means 
of dynamite ? Furthermore, did you not commit an assault and 
battery on an efficient policeman while engaged in the 
discharge of his duty ? 

Dick. If anyone in this case, you Honor, has been unjustifi- 
ably assaulted and battered, I think his name is Richard De 
Forest. 

Judge. What Sir, you'd make a joke of the Dignity of the 
Court, would you ? Officer, what did this man do ? 

Pol. Phwat didn't he do, your Honor! There's a lot of 
ould wimmen up on Murray Hill, and they pass their time in 
thrying to make out that they're men and brothers and good 
fellows in general. A couple of weeks ago they held a meet- 
ing and got a poor, harmless millionaire named Jones to orate 
to them. In the middle of Misther Jones' speech what does 
this divil here do, but set fire to a thrain of dinnymite undher 
the table. And whin I attimpted to arrest him, aw the 
divil an inch he'd come wid me, but run round and round the 
room, laving only the tail of his dress-coat in me hands. 
But I got him again and here he is, yer honor, hard and fast. 

Judge. Officer, it's not necessary to say another word. In 
his person and appearance the prisoner bears every mark of 
guilt. Sir, it's the opinion of this Bench that you're an An- 
archist of the first water. 

Dick [aside]. O, great Scott, hear that. I almost begin to 
feel as if I were a bomb-thrower. What in thunder has hap- 
pened to Jones, anyway ! 

Judge. It is the opinion of this bench that the pris- 
oner is not wholly responsible for his actions. Richard De 
Forest, you are remanded for another hearing, and an exam- 
ination into your sanitv. 

Dick. My sanity. Oh this out-Herods Herod. I think I 
feel the pressure of the strait-jacket already. 

Pol. Step Lively me boy. [Leads De Forest toward cell. 



42 a millionaire's trials. 

Enter J ONES gesticulating. 

Mr J. Stop, i say stop ! I'm Jones. 

Judge. Officer, arrest this man also, for creating a disturb 
ance in Court. 

Mr. J. Don't you see ? I'm Jones. I'm the man that was: 
blown up. I'm all right ! 

Judge. This is Jones ! This is the man that was killed by 
dynamite. He says he's all right. Officer, there's some 
mistake here. Bring your first prisoner back. [Jones and 
De FOREST shake hands. 

Mr. J. De Forest, you're a brick. 

Judge. God bless me, this is the strangest case that 
ever came before me. A man shakes hands with another 
man who attempted to take his life only two weeks ago. — 
Prisoners, explain yourselves. 

Mr. J. Your Honor, you see it was this way. It was only 
a little <oke — Just a little plan, you know, arranged between 
De Forest and myself. De Forest's the most harmless 
fellow alive— never fired anything more dangerous than a 
snowball in the whole course of his life. 

Dick. So your Honor, we hope you'll let us go ! I'll never 
attempt to blow up a man again, though he even went down 
on his knees to beg me to do so and furnished his own dyna- 
mite. 

Judge. Well you can go. Though I believe in letting you 
leave this room, I'm turning a pair of dangerous lunatics at 
large on the community. God help either of you though, if 
you ever make your appearance before me again. {Exit De 
Forest and Jones. 

Pol. An' that's the way I'm left, your Honor, after me fall 
and me black eye and the hurt to me feelin's. I'm not go- 
ing to sthand it. I'll get transferred from the Nineteenth 
Precinct, I'll go up to the Park and be a sparrow policeman. 
Bad scran to me, if I ever vote for Tammany Hall again. 

Judge. Begone Sir. Get out McGinnis. If you ever bring 
such a case before me again, you'll be dismissed from the 
force. [Throws inkstand at Policeman. Judge lifts up legal 
books, says to Clerk — I have some of the books here. You bring 
the rest. End of Scene. 

Scene 4— Act 4. Time — Evening of same day as 3d Scene. 
Same room as Scene 1, Act 3. Maude sitting in hat and 
wrap. Mildred seated near. Edith touches from time 
to time the violin or piano. 

Mil. Do Edith stop that.it makes my head ache. Even 
the sweetest sounds seem hateful when the heart is not at 
rest. Perhaps even now poor Dick is on his way to prison. 
Oh I must go to him ! 

Maude. But I tell you dear, it will be all right. There 



A MILLIONAIRE S TRIaLS. 43 

isn't the slightest danger of his going to prison. Why, the 
moment Mr. Jones heard of his arrest he ran off to his rescue. 

Mil. Oh, I don't see why it was necessary for Mr. Jones to 
have himself blown up anyhow. If / were a man I wouldn't 
be afraid to appeal directly to any woman in the world. 

Maude. Ah, if you were a man, my dear Mildred, and the 
woman in the case were my aunt, you'd pretty soon change 
your opinion. Why, before Mr. Jones could obtain permis- 
sion to go to poor Mr. De Forest's assistance, we had to as- 
sure her that the deed was committed in a fit of temporary 
insanity. 

Mil. Well / should like to be controlled by any one in 
that way ! Thank goodness Dick need never tremble before 
my aunt. But there Maude, forgive me. I did not mean to 
hurtyou. [ Bell rings. 

Maude. Oh, I shouldn't wonder if that were James Fer- 
dinand and Mr. De Forest now. Do Mildred cheer up. 
You look as though you hadn't a hope in life, left. 

Enter Mrs. Ranger. 

Maude. Oh, it's auntie ! 

Mrs. R. What. Mr. Jones hasn't come back. Will he ever 
come back ? More than likely that dangerous lunatic has 
had a fresh attack and strangled him. Ah, what a loss our 
cause would sustain should any harm happen to that noblest 
of his sex, James Ferdinand Jones. [Sits .down, takes off hat. 
What's the matter with you child ? Why, you've been crying. 
To think that at the end of the Nineteenth Century a woman 
should be capable of such a weakness. It makes me blush. 

[Bell rings. 
Enter Mr. De Forest. 

Mr. De F. Good afternoon ladies. Mildred my girl, 
what's the trouble ? Ah, I can guess, — it's that poor boy of 
mine. No, I can't find a trace of him, — all efforts have 
proved unavailing. Foul play of some kind has been at 
work, for Dick would never have left his old father other- 
wise, without one word. 

Mrs. R. Yes, Mr. De Forest,/ should say there has been 
foul play. At least that's what most people would be dis- 
posed to call your son's attempted murder of his best friend, 
Mr. Jones. 

Mr.De F. My boy Dick murder his best friend — why woman, 
you're raving. Dick wouldn't murder a fly. But if you know 
anything of his whereabouts, for Heaven's sake tell me, so I 
may go to him. 

Maude. Oh Mr. De Forest, he'll be here presently. Sit 
down here beside Mildred and get her to believe that. 1 can- 
not. [Bellrings. 

Mil. Oh maybe that's Dick himself now. [Rises. 



44 A MILLIONAIRE S TRIALS. 

Enter Jones and De Forest. 

Dick and Jones. Here we are again ! 

Mr. De F. Oh Dick, to think that you could have treated 
your old father in such a manner. My boy, where have you 
been, — what has happened to you ? 

Dick. Oh, dad, give me something easy. The adventures of 
Richard De Forest Junior, during the past fortnight, would 
make a three-volume novel. Mildred, dear girl, you'll help me, 
will you not, in getting up a little volume of " The wanderings 
of a Broker in Jersey." 

Mrs. R. Why the man's insane yet. Hear how he 
talks. Dear James Ferdinand, you must be cautious. VVhati 
would the cause do, what would / do, if anything should 
happen to you ? 

Maude. And James Ferdinand, where do I come in — What 
should / do ? 

Mr. J. Oh, De Forest's all right, Mrs. Ranger. As I told 
you before it was only a touch of temporary insanity. It al- 
ways comes with the change of the moon. 

Dick [to Jones], Old man, right here, I want to ask you a 
most momentous question — you're the father of this family, 
you know — Can I have Miss Mildred for my wife ? 

Mr. J. De Forest, you make me feel like a patriarch. Take 
her, my boy.and be happy. Bless you, my children, bless you. 

[Dick and Mildred kneel. 

Mrs. R. James Ferdinand Jones, you're more than a 
man, and more than a martyr — you're an angel of love 
and forgiveness. [Bell rings. 

Dick [ jumping up]. Oh, confound it all, Mildred, our beau- 
tiful tableau is destroyed ! And the dear old Guv'nor hadn't 
even time to give us his blessing. 

Enter Lord Harrisford. 

Lord H. Well of all the blawsted countries I have ever had 
the misfortune to travel in, this is the worst. Here I have 
been hunting through the surrounding provinces, compelled, 
by Jove, to mix with the rudest people, — for the past two 
weeks, only to find the man I was searching for, in the very 
first house I enter on my return. Aw, it's what I call a 
blawsted sell, you know. 

Dick. Lord Harrisford, it was mighty nice of you to 
trouble yourself so much about me and I'm awfully thankful 
— but surely you had some compensations — a shot here 
and there at a buffalo nr reindeer, for instance. 

Lord H. Blawst it all — Biawst the buffalo and reindeer. I 
shall bear the marks o< the Jersey Mosquitoes' affection to 
the day of my death. 

Edith. Never mind. Lord Harrisford. You'll be more 
than satisfied when you've heard everything. And Georgiana 



A MILLIONAIRE S TRIALS. 45 

will be delighted to see you. Shall I call her ? [Calls Georgiana. 
Enter Georgiana. 

Georg. Oh Harrisford, O dear George Frederick! how happy 
your return makes me.- But you have lost your eye-glass. 

Lord H. Wear an eye-glass in this blawsted country ? Aw, 

Georgiana, I rawther favvncy not. You are all Americans here, 

you know, but I must say even if it does wound your feelings, 

that no American ever oan live up to the standard of an 

•eye-glass. 

Dick. Oh hang all standards ! Look here, good people all. 
Mildred and I are going to be married next week. 

Lord H. Haw, Georgiana, that statement touches us you 
know. And in whicn of the famous churches of this city, may 
I awsk, will the ceremony take place ? 

Dick. Why, in St. Agnes' in Forty-Third Street, of course. 

Maude. And what do you say, James Ferdinand ? Suppose 
zwget married in St. Agnes' next week ? May we not, Auntie ? 

Mr. J. Say yes, Mrs. Ranger. 

Mrs. R. Yes, James Ferdinand, you may. 

Edith. Oh, this is delightful. Jack will be home day after 
to-morrow and he and I will be married in St. Agnes' next 
week. 

Lord H. And aw Georgiana, what do you say? 1 want to 
get out of this blawsted country, anyhow, as soon as possible, 
though I shouldn't just fawncy leaving my heart behind. 
Suppose you and I are married in St. Agnes' next week ? 

Mil. But, oh girls, we have forgotten all about it, in the 
hurry— What in the world will we do for our trosseaux ? 

Mr. J. That's French, isn't it Mildred, for veils and orange- 
blossoms and bridal favors and all the rest. Well Mildred, 
I'm the father of this family, and thanks to my late uncle, pos- 
sess some modest means, and we'll see what New York can 
do for us in that way, in a few days. And we will all be mar- 
ried in St. Agnes' next week. [Edith touches violin with music 
of "1/ a body meet a body coining through the rye, and all sing it. 
End of last Scene, last Act. 

CURTAIN. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

016 102 814 9 # 



